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Ob, here you are, Myrtle! I’ve had such a hunt for you 
it’s my birthday.” p. 13. 


//•so/4: 


FERNWOOD; 


OR, 


HATTIE’S BIETH-DAY VISIT. 


V 




BY THE AUTHOR OF 

•‘FRUIT-GATHERING,” “DANIEL TRACY’S STORE,” “TWENTY- 
FIVE CENTS,” “ FORGIVENESS,” Exc. 



PHILADELPHIA : 

AMEKICAN SUNDAY-SCHOOL UNION, 
No. 1122 Chestnut Street. 

y 

New York: Nos. 8 and 10 Bible House, Astor Place. 



\ 


Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1871, by the 
AMERICAN SUNDAY-SCHOOL UNION, 

In the Office of the Librarian of Congress, at Washington. 


/Z~ 


/ 


Westcott & Thomsok, 

Stereotypers, Philada. 


Henry B. Ashmead, 
Printer, Philada. 


FEBNWOOD. 


CHAPTER I. 

AMMA,” said Hattie Winslow, ‘‘ have 
you thought about my birth-day? 
Day after to-morrow will be the 10th 
of June, 1852, and I don’t want you 
to forget it.” 

I have not forgotten it, my child : you will 
be ten years old; and now how would you 
like to spend that important day?” 

You know, mamma, where I would like to 
go best of all.” 

^^To Fernwood, I suppose, to be with 
grandma?” 

You have guessed exactly right, ma’am,” 
said Hattie, with sparkling eyes ; may I go?” 

I know of nothing to prevent, and I have 
been thinking, my dear, that you will have the 
holiday even without the excuse of your birth- 

1 * 5 



6 


FEENWOOD. 


day, because I bear your teacher is likely to 
be called away by the illness of her mother." 

Then, perhaps, I may stay all night ?" 

We’ll see ; now take your book again, and 
sit still.” 

Two or three friends had been shown into 
the parlour, and Mrs. Winslow wished to con- 
verse with them. 

Hattie, after speaking politely to the visitors, 
withdrew to the recess of a bay-window, and 
by the fading light tried to resume the story 
she had been reading before the sudden re- 
membrance of her birth-day called away her 
attention. Her eyes wandered off, however, 
out of the window ; she saw in her fancy the 
dear old homestead, the sweet garden, the 
broad meadows, the beautiful woods. It was 
a long time since she had visited her grand- 
parents, except merely for a brief stay, and 
she looked forward now to the happiness of 
meeting them with intense .delight. There 
were no children there for her to play with : 
she could not have told herself wherein lay 
the great charm of a visit to Fernwood ; but 
she did enjoy being there very much indeed. 

Scraps of conversation among her mother’s 
visitors attracted her attention ; for instance : 


FEKNWOOD. 


7 


Mrs. Winslow, we certainly have 
something to do here on earth more serious 
and important than keeping our houses in 
order and arranging what shall be for dinner 
to-morrow?” 

You misunderstood me if you thought I 
meant that was all we were to do,” said Mrs. 
Winslow. 

Every woman ought to consider that she 
has a special mission, and give herself no rest 
or enjoyment unless she knows it is being 
fulfilled.” 

May I ask,” said Mrs. Winslow, smiling, 
what you believe to be your mission ?” 

I think I am in my right place,” said Mrs. 
Coleman, '^when I am teaching the children 
in the Howard infant school to sing every 
morning. I have a good voice, and they seem 
to learn quite fast.” 

But have they not a regular teacher ?” 

Oh yes, but I didn’t like her way of sing- 
ing, or of teaching either.” 

Now, Hattie silently wondered what be- 
came of Mrs. Coleman’s four little children, 
ail under eight years of age, while their 
mother was absent every morning on her 
mission. 


8 


FERNWOOD. 


The others mentioned what they felt called 
upon to do: one spent her time distribut- 
ing tractS; and as she was not married, and 
had no particular claims upon her leisure, 
Hattie said to herself, “That’s nice and right/' 
The other said, “ She felt it to be her duty to 
be present at certain meetings held by the 
ladies for the benefit of an orphan school in a 
heathen land, and to be begging money for 
' the establishment, as she was considered a 
very good beggar. She was consequently in 
the street a great part of every day.” 

Hattie did not feel interested in all that was 
said, but the impression was left on her mind 
that having a mission made it necessary to be 
in the street a good deal, and also to be away 
from home much of the time. She concluded, 
therefore, that her mother was rather behind 
' the age because she found plenty to do in at- 
tending to the wants of her household, and in 
making home a happy place for her husband 
and children. 

But gradually the sound of voices became 
less audible. Hattie found herself again ab- 
sorbed in her thoughts about grandma and 
Bernwood, and before it was quite dark the 
visitors took their leave. 


CHAPTER II. 


HE 10th of June came, bright and 
clear, and Hattie was taken to the 
railroad d4p6t and placed in a car. 
After a half-hour s ride she arrived at 
the station where she was to get out. 

“ Good-morning, grandma !” she exclaimed, 
almost dancing into the sitting-room at Fern- 
wood; *‘Ive come to spend the day with 
you.” 

Her grandma pushed back her spectacles 
and looked up from her sewing, her face 
changing instantly from its sad expression : 

“Well, come and give me a kiss, then, the 
first thing, dear. How the child looks Did 
you walk or run or fly to get here ?” 

“ I would have liked to fly, grandma, after 
I got out of the car, but I could only run ; so 
I did,that just as fast as I could. I guess my 
hair does look pretty wild;” and the child 
began to unfasten her bonnet and take ofi* her 
coat without waiting for any formal invita- 



10 


FERNWOOD. 


tion ; she and grandma were such fond friends 
there was no need of standing on ceremony. 

''Now take your little chair and tell me all 
about it. Where’s mother ? And what’s be- 
come of school to-day ?” 

Hattie put away her things in the entry 
closet and sat down, feeling quite willing to 
do so after her race of half a mile from the 
station. 

" Well, grandma, this is my hirth-day, and 
mother was going to give me a holiday, any- 
how, but, besides that, our teacher heard her 
mother was sick, and there is no school to- 
day. Mother said, if she sent no message to 
me this afternoon, I might stay all night. Oh, 
I do hope she will not send any !” 

"Well, dearie, the little white bed is all 
ready for you ; I made it up yesterday. I did 
not forget the day of the month, and I hoped 
you would come and spend your birth-day 
with me, though I could not be sure you 
would like it.” 

"Mamma offered to take me to the city; 
she said I might go to the menagerie.” 

" And you declined that tempting offer, 
Hattie ? I’m astonished !” 

"Yes, grandma; I said I would rather 


FERNWOOD. 


11 


spend the day with you than with the wild 
beasts. Mother laughed, but she said, ‘ You 
may go, and tell grandma that you paid her a 
high compliment — you preferred her to a 
wild beast.’ ” 

And so it is a compliment, my little pet,” 
said the old lady, drawing Hattie up to her 
and giving her a kiss. ‘‘ In these days, 
Hattie, old women are not considered very 
attractive; there is such a rush and hurry, 
so much dressing arid such a time fixing the 
hair, real and false, that old people seem to be 
in the way with their quiet, slow notions and 
their unwelcome advice. I am very proud 
of the choice you have made to-day, indeed. 
We’ll have a pleasant time, I guess, and a 
ride after dinner;” and grandma laid aside 
the tablecloth she was hemming and quietly 
stepped into the adjoining room, which was a 
large, beautifully-kept kitchen having an en- 
closed shed or scullery at the back. The rows 
of glittering tins that hung on the walls, to- 
gether with two pair of tall, old-fashioned 
brass candlesticks that mounted guard on the 
mantel-piece, with the bell-metal mortar and 
pestle between them, all shining like gold, 
gave a sort of luminous appearance to the 


12 


FERNWOOD. 


room, as if the sun was lying on it all day, 
brightening it with its presence. 

Grandma pattered through the kitchen to 
the shed, where she found her factotum 
Myrtle. 

In a low tone certain directions were given, 
which were solemnly responded to by bends 
of the turbaned head ; the conference closed, 
and from that moment Mrs. Cheston gave 
herself up to the enjoyment of her favourite's 
company. 

Myrtle — ebony black — was the daughter of 
the last one of the family of slaves in New 
Jersey who had been freed by the will of Mrs. 
Cheston’s father. No title but that of “our 
family” or “our folks” was ever recognized 
by the hale, faithful old servant. The Mere- 
diths, from the first settler all the way down 
to the present representative of the family at 
the old place — the last remaining daughter — 
were the people of that part of the country, 
and her services were tendered accordingly 
with all becoming loftiness toward the “trash” 
that neighbouring gentry were obliged to hire 
for their servants. 

Myrtle was a character, and her mistress 
understood exactly how to keep the balance 


4 ^ 


FERNWOOD. 


13 


even between the various discordant elements 
that composed it. Compared with most ser- 
vants, she was invaluable. Happily, the fa- 
vourites of her mistress were generally her 
own favourites also, and when Hattie had ob- 
served the necessary formality of going out to 
find Myrtle, no matter where she might be, 
at the barn, smoke-house, or chicken-yard or 
spring-house — the farther off, the better — and 
to do her duty by asking after her health, 
then, after that, all went serenely for the 
duration of her visit. 

But if that ceremony were omitted through 
carelessness or forgetfulness, the dinner was 
apt to be less relishing, and no extra little 
pies or dainty cakes or sweetmeats found their 
way into Hattie’s basket when she was going 
home. 

On this occasion, as soon as the child’s feet 
were rested, she set out on her journey in 
quest of Myrtle. After calling her again and 
again, and going to the barn and hen-house 
in vain, she ran down the meadow to the 
spring-house : 

“ Oh, here you are, Myrtle ! I’ve had such 
a hunt for you. How are you to-day ? pretty 
well? It’s my birth-day !” v 

2 


14 


FEENWOOD. 


Myrtle rose from her stooping posture over 
the shelves to make her usual curtsey : 

Many happy returns, Miss Harriet ! I’m 
as well as common, thank you, missy. Your 
grandma’s mighty pleased you’ve come to-day, 
’ticularly as it’s your birth-day.” 

‘‘ Is she ? How do you know. Myrtle ?” 

Ah ! I can tell, missy ; don’t I know when 
she comes tapping across the kitchen floor to 
the shed, and says, * Myrtle, we’ll have sich 
and sich dishes for dinner to-day, and cheese- 
curds or something extra for dessert,’ — don’t 
I know there’s somebody come she sets par- 
tiklar store by? Now, I know’d a’most for 
certain that little missy was in the sitting- 
room the minute I heard old mistress’s foot 
coming toward the shed.” 

Hattie laughed : So you had to come 

right away to the spring-house for cream and 
butter and things, to help make a nice dinner ? 
Well, I won’t hinder you. Did ever anything 
smell sweeter, though, than this spring-house ? 
You make everything so white and clean. 
Good-bye, now. Myrtle.” 

And leaving the old servant delighted with 
her heartfelt praise, Hattie travelled back up 
the meadow, filling her apron with buttercups 


FERNWOOD. 


15 


as she went along, just because they looked 
so pretty and bright. 

“Got a pin, grandma?” she asked as she 
came into the room. The old woman took out 
her pincushion to give her one. 

“You always have pins, grandma, and I 
never can keep one by me.” 

“That makes me think of my grandma, 
Hattie, when I was young. I used to tell her 
that the fairies must come in the night and 
fill the round ball she carried in her pocket, 
for it was always full, no matter when I asked 
for pins.” 

“ Did your grandma hang her pincushion 
by this silver chain too ?” 

“Yes, just as you see it now; you see the 
chain is divided toward the end, or rather an- 
other piece is joined on to hold the scissors. 
They both used to hang in her pocket, just as 
they now hang in mine.” 

“ How convenient that must be, grandma ! 
and how bright you keep the chain !” 

“ That comes partly from constant use, my 
dear, and partly from an occasional rubbing 
up I give it. How, when you have done ex- 
amining the chain and hook, would you like 
to know how my grandmother used to be 


16 


FERNWOOD. 


dressed when she was sitting at her work 
with this hook fastened to her waist and the 
chain hanging from it ?” 

^^Yes, ma’am, indeed I would; I think I 
like old times, grandma and Hattie settled 
herself in the chair with a most contented 
expression on her face. 

Mrs. Cheston^ooked through a bag of pieces 
she kept in a closet : 

Now, here is a scrap of one of her dresses, 
Hattie.” 

What queer kind of calico it is, grandma!” 

It is the large flowered pattern that was 
thought so very handsome in those days, with 
a high gloss on it ; it was imported from Eng- 
land, and was quite expensive. Would you 
believe, my dear, that my grandmother con- 
sidered herself looking very nice when she 
was dressed in a short gown made of this very 
pattern of calico, and a full skirt made of 
brown or black worsted ^ stuff,’ as the fabric 
was called ?” 

^^Oh, grandma, you don’t mean that she 
would receive her friends in that dress, do 
you?” 

I have seen her, when I was a child, of an 
afternoon in fall or spring, after she had taken 


FERNWOOD. 


17 


her short nap and had come down stairs, sit- 
ting on the broad, chintz- covered sofa in her 
parlour, just in that dress, with her knitting- 
bag by her side, and a sweet, placid, fresh- 
looking old woman she was. 

1 can remember thinking, as I sat in my 
little chair trying to sew or read — for she did 
not like to see me idle — that when she paused 
in her knitting, with a thoughtful look on her 
face, that she had just fixed upon some nice 
thing she intended putting on the tea-table, 
and especially did I think so if I saw her get 
up presently and step out into the large pan- 
try. I knew I had been right in my fancies 
when I found grandfather observing some un- 
expected dish or the first appearance of fruit 
on the table when he came in to tea." 

Grrandma, don’t you think housewives 
took more pains to see to such things in 
those times than they do now said Hattie. 

My ! what an old-fashioned, noticing child 
you are, my dear !’’ said the old woman, with 
her kindly laugh. I don’t see how you should 
know about those times, but you have found 
out the truth with your young eyes. When 
I hear husbands saying to their wives now-a- 
days, ‘ I wonder what is the reason that buck- 

2 * B 


18 


FERNWOOD. 


wheat cakes and Indian slappers and such 
things never taste like they used to in my 
mother’s house ?’ I could give them the answer 
in most cases.” 

And what would you tell them, grandma?” 

^‘Why, my dear, I would tell them that 
the mother they speak of lived at a time when 
a good wife thought it was a part of her duty 
toward her husband and children to see that 
they had good and relishing food placed be- 
fore them three times a day; when she did 
not feel that her clothes were too fine to admit 
of her going out into the kitchen over-night 
to set a pan of waffles or light biscuit for a 
winter morning’s breakfast, if the cook had 
not yet learned the knack of making them as 
nicely as she could herself ; and not only that, 
when this same wife and mother went round 
to her closets and pantry herself every morn- 
ing, to see that no fragments of nice things 
were left in the best dishes getting stale or 
mouldy, or too much bread gathering up in 
the bread-bowl, or milk turning sour in two 
or three different vessels.” 

Grandma,” said Hattie, it is no wonder 
mother has everything so nice at home if you 
taught her to keep house so well.” 


FERNWOOD. 


19 


'^Yes, I taught her/’ said Mrs. Cheston, 
smiling, ^^but I had a rare time doing it.” 

Why? Wasn’t dear mother a good scholar, 
grandma ?” 

She was one of your leeterary sort of 
bodies, as our old Scotch minister used to say, 
and when she got hold of a book that pleased 
her, my dear, it was very hard work getting 
her to give it up and attend to her household 
duties.” 

^^She would give it up after a while, and 
do what you told her to do, wouldn’t she, 
though ?” 

“Always, my child. Sometimes I would 
not require it of her, for I disliked to tear her 
away from her pleasant reading, and I would 
quietly go myself and do what I wanted to 
have her attend to ; it was more for the sake 
of training her to be a good housekeeper 
than for the help I needed that I ever called 
her away.” 

“But, grandma, you think that mother 
knows how now, don’t you ?” 

“ Indeed I do, Hattie. I consider her one 
of the best housekeepers I ever knew, and I 
take no credit to myself for it, either, notwith- 
standing I tried so hard to give her the best 


20 


FEENWOOD. 


and quickest ways of getting through with her 
work.” 

‘^Then what did make her so active and 
industrious, grandma ? for it seems to liie that 
mother never allows herself time to read even 
the most interesting book until she feels sure 
that all the pickles and preserves for that par- 
ticular time are done and fastened up, and 
that the week’s mending is all finished. Mother 
thinks of everything just at the right time ; I 
do not see how she does it.” 

Here the conversation was interrupted. In 
the afternoon, Hattie enjoyed a delightful ride 
with her grandparents ; no message concern- 
ing school was received in the evening, and 
Hattie, very much delighted, retired to her 
little white bed,, safe in the prospect of one 
more day, at all events, at Ternwood. 



CHAPTER III. 

f OME to breakfast, little chick,” grand- 
father called from the porch door 
early the next morning. Hattie was 
in the garden, running up one path 
and down another, making great haste 
to gather a bunch of pinks, roses, and sweet 
brier to place on the breakfast-table. 

The sweetness of that old-fashioned garden 
while the dewdrops still sparkled on the flow- 
ers was beyond description. Hattie just drank 
it in as she went from one familiar spot to an- 
other ; * the damask and white cluster roses, 
now so rare, the clove-pinks, gilly-flowers, 
mignonette, and heliotrope, all sent forth their 
richest fragrance on this bright morning, and 
these were only a part. 

Hastily tying up her little nosegay with a 
strip of ribbon grass, Hattie ran into the 
house, giving her ready kiss of good-morning 
and showing her flowers. 


21 


22 


FERNWOOD. 


^'Well, how did the little bed feel last night, 
Hattie ?" 

I never knew anything more about it, 
grandma, after you took the light away,” said 
the child, laughing merrily. 

“You said your prayers I suppose, my 
dear?” said grandpa; “ and after that you felt 
safe, and had no thoughts to trouble you or 
keep you from sleeping.” 

“ Hattie told me last night that she thinks 
she will never be too old to say, ^ Now I lay 
me down to sleep,’ because it has everything in 
it that a prayer needs on going to bed.” 

“ And she is quite right,” said her grand- 
father ; “ it is the simplest and yet the fullest 
prayer for a child, or for any one, in lying 
down for the night.” 

“But I always say, ^Our Father,’ too,” 
said Hattie. 

Myrtle just then looked in to see if they 
were all seated, and brought from the fire her 
hottest cakes, giving a kind look at Hattie as 
she put them on the table. 

“Would you like to come with me this 
morning in the gig, Hattie ? I am going to 
buy some new fowls at a farmer’s three or 
four miles off,” said grandpa. 


FEKNWOOD. 


23 


“ If grandma thinks she can spare me, I will 
be very glad to go,” said Hattie, in her old- 
fashioned way ; we were going to have nice 
times to-day.” 

“ Oh, I hope there will be plenty of time 
afterward, my dear ; I think you will not go 
home just yet. You may go and help your 
grandpa select these uncommon chickens ; the 
ride will do you good.” 

Hattie brightened up at the permission, and 
enjoyed her breakfast all the more for the 
pleasant prospect before her. They were to 
go about nine o’clock. 

After family worship was over, and Myrtle 
and another house-servant had gone to their 
work, grandma began to wash her china and 
silver, as she did every morning, herself. This 
was a delightful hour to Hattie when she was 
at the farm. The little tub of whitest wood 
bound with brass was brought in full of hot 
water, and Hattie was allowed to get out the 
soft towels, and as a great favour was per- 
mitted to wipe the pieces as grandma gave 
them into her hands. Knowing how particu- 
lar the old lady was about this operation, 
Hattie felt all the more the importance of her 
position in being her assistant. 


24 


FERNWOOD. 


While the work went smoothly on, grandma 
said, 

“I wonder if you are as fond of chickens 
and ducks as I used to be when I was lit- 
tle?" 

“ I like to be among them, grandma, very 
much, but then, you know, we live in a vil- 
lage, and mother says it makes so much trouble 
between neighbours to raise chickens that we 
never do it." 

“ It does make trouble, I know," replied 
Mrs. Cheston. I have seen chickens brought 
and thrown over the fence with their heads 
cut off, because a man was tired past endur- 
ance with having his garden seeds scratched 
up whenever he planted them, or his tomatoes 
eaten as fast as they were ripe enough to pull, 
if they had the good luck to grow at all." 

‘‘But the poor chickens — what a shame, 
grandma, to kill them ! They could not tell 
the difference in the ground, one side of the 
fence or the other." 

“It taught their owner at last, my dear, 
that the fence must be repaired and kept 
strong. But I had no such trouble when I 
raised poultry here, as a child. I never felt 
quite so grand, I think, in all my youthful 


FEENWOOD. 


25 


dayS; as I did once, and it was all owing to a 
pair of chickens.” 

How was it, grandma ?” and Hattie rub- 
bed all the harder on a silver cream-cup she 
was polishing in her- eagerness to hear the 
story. 

Somebody had said in my hearing,” re- 
plied grandma, as she twirled her cups around 
in the rinsing- water, ^‘that my grandmother 
in the city would be pleased if we sent her a 
present of a pair of nice fowls ; in the winter 
I thought of my special coop full of fine, fat 
chickens, and resolved she should have a pair 
at once. They were made ready for my father 
to take with him the next time he went to 
town, for my mother’s mother did not live 
here : you know this is the Meredith farm. 
I sent a message of love to my grandmother, 
and hoped she would enjoy the fowls, which I 
had raised entirely myself, and then I con- 
sidered the matter ended. 

^‘When my father came home a few days 
afterward, we were all sitting round the 
table when supper was done, most of the 
family engaged in reading the letters from 
city friends and the newspapers, for in those 
days, my dear, such things came by private 

3 


26 


FERNWOOD. 


hands more than they do now, when postage is 
so cheap, and I think they brought a greater 
relish with them, somehow. We always look- 
ed forward to father’s return, when he went 
to the city, as to a kind of festival. Well, I 
got out my slate, and was busy copying pic- 
tures of animals from Groldsmith’s ^ Animated 
Nature,’ when suddenly the silence was broken 
by the sound of my father’s voice; he put 
down the paper he was reading, and said, 

“ ‘1 believe I am getting forgetful ; come 
here, Gipsy!’ That was the name he mostly 
called me, because I was such a wild, wander- 
ing kind of a child, I suppose, and I had black 
hair, too. ‘ Why don’t you ask me about the 
chickens I took to town for you ?’ 

“ ' Why, father,’ I said, ‘ I thought there 
was nothing more after I sent them ; you took 
them, you know.’ 

“ ‘ Yes, but don’t you want to know whether 
your grandmother was pleased that you re- 
membered her ?’ 

'' ' She was pleased, I guess, father,’ I 
answered. 

“ ‘ She seemed to be very much pleased in- 
deed ; she said they were the handsomest pair 
of fowls she had seen all winter’ — and then 


FERNWOOD. 


27 


father seemed to be getting something out of 
his pocket — ^ and she told me to give you this 
little package and her love with it.’ I took 
it in my hand and went to the light, utterly 
surprised.” 

^‘What was it, grandma?” said Hattie, 
quickly; ^‘did she send you her daguerreo- 
type?” 

Mrs. Cheston laughed : 

^'Daguerreotypes had not been invented 
then, my dear child ; they are of more modern 
origin. No ; it was a little green velvet purse 
with a gilt clasp — children of the present day 
would hardly think it worth looking at — and 
inside of it were two bright silver half dol- 
lars.” 

" Oh how kind that was in her !” exclaimed 
Hattie, in delighted tones. 

- " I cannot tell to this day, my dear, why 
that little token of my grandmother’s favour 
and approbation impressed me so deeply. For 
the money I really had no use ; I was not ac- 
customed to owning or saving up money, as 
many children are, but it seemed to me as if 
I was rewarded for the trouble I had taken 
with all the chickens on the place, for they 
were entirely my charge. I felt amply paid 


28 


FERNWOOD. 


for going out on rainy days to feed them, and 
for the anxieties I had known when a heavy 
storm had once carried away some little 
chickens but a* few days old. Grandmother 
had praised my fowls, and she had also been 
pleased with me. I felt as if I had grown 
several years older that night, and I remem- 
ber being quite serious until it was time to go 
to bed.” 

I wonder what it was that made her so 
much pleased ?” said Hattie, thoughtfully. 

“ Well, dear, I think it likely that grandma 
meant to encourage me in the habit of perse- 
vering in what I undertook. She found that, 
child though I was, and a heedless child too, 
I had yet been steadfast in my care of the 
poultry at home, and had taken good care of 
them too, as these well-kept fowls bore wit- 
ness. Now, you know, if I had attended to 
them by fits and starts, sometimes feeding 
them three or four times a day and then for- 
getting them for a day or two, they would not 
have .thriven at all; I should have found it 
impossible to make anybody such a present : 
and that I could be faithful in any duty grati- 
fied my grandmother so much that she sent 
me this little reward. No matter what a 


FERNWOOD. 


29 


child undertakes to do, there ought always to 
he a sense of responsibility connected with the 
doing it ; the smallest matter should be done 
well and faithfully: don't you think so, my 
dear ?" 

That is what mother says to me, grand- 
ma. She says, if I fold up a dress, I ought to 
do it as nice and straight as possible, and she 
likes me to make my bed every day as if the 
queen was coming to sleep with me at night,” 
said Hattie, laughing. ■ 

“Did you ever read anything about eye- 
service ?” grandma said, presently, when she 
came back from putting some china in the 
closet. 

“ Ho, grandma ; I don’t think I have. What 
is it?” 

“ If you were to do any piece of work when 
your mother was out of the room in a careless 
way, yet so as she should think it was done 
right from the outside, that would be eye- 
service. But if you were to do it all through 
exactly as she would approve, whether the 
difference was seen or not, then you would be 
acting right as in the sight of Grod. I have 
sometimes gone into a room, for instance, and 
found a servant doing her work in such a way 
3 *- 


30 


FEENWOOD. 


that if I had not happened to see her at that 
part of it, I would have believed she had done 
it as I wished, but she was acting only as an 
eye-servant ; if I had been present looking at 
her all the while, she would have done it in 
the proper way. Now, do you understand ?'’ 

Yes, ma’am, I think I do ; it is easier to 
do things right all the way, I think, for then 
you need not be afraid of being found out.” 

That is one advantage, Hattie, to be sure, 
but another is that you have a conscience at 
rest with itself. When you remember that the 
eye of God is always upon you, there seems no 
use of trying to do things deceitfully; you 
cannot deceive him, and it is so much better 
to have him for your friend, and to know that 
you are trying to please him in what you do 
always. But I don’t think there is much 
deceit about my little Hattie,” grandma added, 
with a kiss. 

Grandpa came to the door with the gig : 

Come, now, my dear ; I’ll be ready to start 
in a few minutes.” 

Yes, sir; I’ll get my bonnet. We’ve got 
the cups all washed up and put away.” 

Hattie kissed her grandma, and took her 
seat alongside of Mr. Cheston, fully prepared 


FEENWOOD. 


31 


to enjoy the delicious summer morning, while 
she made the ride all the pleasanter to the 
old gentleman by her lively prattle and her 
readiness to be pleased with everything on 
the way. 


CHAPTER IV. 


UESS who has been here, Hattie?” 
said Mrs. Cheston, after her return, 
and while dinner was progressing. 

Hattie looked up and down and 
did some little thinking. 

My schoolmistress has not come back, has 
she, grandma ?” she asked, rather anxiously. 

^^Ho, my dear; you will have to guess 
again.” 

Then I guess it was my mother.” 

Right this time, Hattie, and she came to 
say that word had been received which would 
probably make the absence of your teacher 
longer than was expected.” 

Oh ! then may I stay another night ?” in- 
terrupted Hattie. 

“From the size of a travelling-bag which 
your mother brought with her, I think we 
may have your society for several more days, 
my dear,” said grandma, smiling; “are you 
glad?” 

32 



FERNWOOD. 


33 


Indeed I am glad, grandma : I love to be 
here most dearly ; but are you sure you want 
a little girl so long ?” 

We will take the risk of getting tired of 
her," said grandpa; ^^she is a pretty good lit- 
tle girl, take her altogether. I think we can 
manage to put up with her until her teacher 
gets back." 

expect to send her home wiser and 
steadier than most children of her age," said 
Mrs. Gheston. ^^She will take lessons in 
housekeeping while she is here that will 
make her more valuable to her mother when 
she returns." 

Yes, and she shall take lessons in riding 
on horseback, and playing at battledore-and- 
shuttlecock, and various other important mat- 
ters," added Mr. Gheston. 

'Spect well all spile the child, among us," 
observed Myrtle as she brought a pitcher of 
fresh water for the table. 

No," said the old gentleman ; “ that is not 
part of the plan, by any means. You must 
take care of that. Myrtle, for little pies and 
cakes and such things come from under your 
hands." ^ 

Hattie’s eyes glistened with delight ; visions 
c 


34 


FERNWOOD. 


of all kinds of pleasures spread themselves out 
before her mind, to be enjoyed in certain and 
quick succession all the time she stayed at the 
old homestead. 

Some children would have felt it quite a 
hardship to be doomed to a long visit in so 
retired a place, with no child to play or walk 
with. Old people are not attractive to every 
child; they are convenient to have in the 
house, because dresses will sometimes get torn 
and require mending, and boys’ buttons will 
come off ; moreover, there is generally cake in 
the closet when there is an aunt or grand- 
mother in the family, and a general sense of 
getting through troubles more easily, and of 
having indulgences granted. But are they 
often respected, loved, and tenderly cherished ? 
Sometimes, I am glad to say, they are ; and 
the child who is remarked for most frequently 
remembering grandma and grandpa, cheering 
their loneliness, walking with them, waiting 
on them when they are in health, and when 
they are sick trying to soothe their pain and 
going about softly lest their sleep should be 
disturbed, — that child will rarely fail to prove 
a good and , true-hearted man or woman in 
later years. 


FERNWOOD. 35 

Presently, Hattie came back from ber happy 
visions, and said. 

Grandma, why did not mother wait until 
I came back from riding ? Didn’t she want 
to see me ?” 

Yes, my darling ; she wanted to see you 
very much indeed, and was quite disappoint- 
ed, but she and your father were obliged to 
return in the next train. They are going to 
spend a few days in the city, and left you here, 
knowing you would be glad to hear that your 
visit might be extended.” 

Oh, grandma, won’t we have nice times ?” 
exclaimed the delighted child. “I can hear 
about so many things that happened when 
you were young and when mother was little, 
and I can save you a great many steps too, 
grandma; you must be sure and call me to 
bring you everything you want, and to go of 
errands for you.” 

. You shall be made useful, dear : do not be 
uneasy about that ; and you will keep me from 
being lonely while grandpa is away through 
the day, as he is so much at this season. I 
find I am more lonely than I used to be — per- 
haps because I am getting old.” 

Myrtle’s shining black face wore an expres- 


36 


FEENWOOD. 


sion of great satisfaction as she waited on 
table, bringing in the dessert, which she al- 
ways preferred doing herself. Now,’’ she 
thought, “ my dear mistress will have a 
chance of being cheered up a little ; she hasn’t 
seemed as lively as common lately, and I guess 
I’ll please little missy with sweet things I’ll 
make for her.” 

So it did seem as if there was some danger 
that Hattie might be “ spiled,” as Myrtle said, 
when she was the main object of attention all 
round. It turned out, however, that the child 
loved others more than she loved herself, and 
that prevented the mischief: for of all dis- 
agreeable members of society a spoiled child 
is one of the hardest to bear. 

In the afternoon, when Mrs. Cheston was 
taking her accustomed nap, Hattie curled 
herself up in a large chair, with a book of 
pictures in her lap, thinking she would enjoy 
looking at them extremely, but she had not 
turned over more than three or four leaves 
before drowsiness overcame her to such an 
extent that pictures and everything else faded 
into obscurity, succeeded by pleasant dreams. 


CHAPTEK V. 


RIGHT as a bird, the next morning 
Hattie was chatting away at the break- 
fast-table, while she enjoyed the fresh 
country fare with an appetite height- 
ened by change of air; for the child 
had been going to school steadily all winter, 
and had studied faithfully, and was looking 
rather delicate in consequence. 

Presently she said. 

Grandpa, what is Cedar Swamp water 

Why, my dear, the name itself tells you, 
doesn’t it ? Shouldn’t you think it was water 
that came from a cedar swamp ?” 

Yes, sir, but Myrtle says it is almost red, 
and I think that is queer.” 

“The roots of cedar trees, being so thick 
where the streams come from, do make the 
colour of the water a kind of dark brown, or 
red ; it is very clear and sweet, though.” 

“ Yes, and it is said to be wholesome,” said 
grandma. “Would you like to see it and 
taste it ?” 

sr 



4 


38 


FERNWOOD. 


YeS; ma’am, indeed I would, but there is 
none here, is there ?” 

^‘We might take an afternoon and go up 
to the Pines, as they call that region; the 
ride would do you good, and then we would 
be very near the Cedar Swamp, where your 
grandpa has a large tract' of timber.” 

That would suit me nicely,” said Mr. 
Cheston. 'Mt is well I was reminded of that 
troublesome piece of property. I ought to go 
up there and make an effort to collect some 
rents, and to see about having some trees 
marked out for cutting down in the winter. 
Perhaps if we have Hattie along the journey 
will be less disagreeable, for I confess I am 
not fond of going to the Pines.” 

Well, my dear, suppose we were to make 
this excursion a little different from one of 
mere business? I will send and invite two 
little girls who will help Hattie enjoy herself 
in that wild region.” 

‘‘ Oh, when shall we go, grandpa ? To-day ?” 
asked Hattie. 

There I shall have to disappoint you, 
dear; I shall be very busy to-day on the 
farm. But let me see: to-morrow I shall 
have to be at home early in the day, but by 


FERNWOOD. 39 

noon I shall be at liberty ; if the weather is 
clear, we might go then, I think.” 

Hattie looked as if waiting till to-morrow 
was almost equal to giving up the trip alto- 
gether, it seemed such a long way off ; but she 
would not allow her kind grandfather to see 
this ; so she said, 

“ That will do, grandma, won’t it ?” . 

^^Yes, my child, that will suit me better 
than to-day would have done, and as the day 
after to-morrow will be Sunday, you had bet- 
ter prepare your lessons for Sunday some time 
to-day.” 

But, grandma, will I not go with you to 
your church ?” 

“ Oh yes ! I do not mean that I shall send 
you all alone to our Sunday-school, where you 
would feel strange, but I. would like to have 
you learn two hymns and some Bible verses 
to repeat to your grandpa on Sunday. You 
know we have quite a distance to ride, and do 
not always go twice to church.” 

Now, Hattie was a child whose natural dis- 
position was kind and very cheerful; she 
sometimes felt the exercises of religion to be 
a restraint on her spirits, and was not always 
ready for them, although never outwardly ob- 


40 


FERNWOOD. 


jecting. She had reverence for religion in 
itself, and she had reverence for those who 
consistently practiced its obligations : her 
parents and her grandparents she thought 
were about the very best people on earth. 
She would not have thought of such a thing 
as refusing to do as she was now requested ; 
but still, to go to work on Friday, a lovely 
warm day, when all the flowers would want 
to be enjoyed and the butterflies ought to be 
chased and the birds listened to, and learn 
dry hymns and tedious Bible verses for next 
Sunday— ‘‘ Oh my !” 

She was not aware that her loving grand- 
mother saw and clearly understood what was 
passing in her mind ; she did not know how 
plainly her thoughts were written on her seri- 
ous face ; nor did she divine the tender anx- 
iety felt for her that her heart might become 
the source of pure and holy affections, and her 
conscience trained to obedience to the require- 
ments of God’s laws. Safe for eternity, safe 
when death should come, whether early or 
late, safe in the arms of her loving Saviour, 
for this world and the next, — this was the bur- 
den of her grandma’s daily prayers for the 
child of her love. Many are the prayers that 


FEENWOOD. 


41 


go up to heaven as silently as the perfume of 
flowers for the spiritual welfare of dear and 
cherished children who are playing and laugh- 
ing in their light-hearted gayety, forgetful of 
their immortal interests, and ignorant of the 
blessed privilege granted them in the posses- 
sion of praying friends. 

After a few minutes’ struggle with herself, 
Hattie looked up brightly : 

‘‘ I’ll do it, grandma ; it will he a good while 
for me to remember them — from Friday till 
Sunday — but I’ll learn them very tight, and 
then I guess they will not slip out of my 
mind.” 

That’s a dear, good child,” said her grand- 
father ; come to me when you are ready, and 
I’ll choose your hymns, and grandma will 
choose your verses.” 

4 * 


CHAPTER VI. 


HAT gate’s open, and all the lambs 
will get into the field !” 

These words were brought upon the 
wind to Hattie’s ears from a distance, 
and looking up, she saw there was a 
commotion in the region of the barn among 
the sheep and lambs, and a man was trying 
to get round and head them off from the gate 
that was open. Now, Hattie felt a personal 
concern in this commotion ; she had perched 
herself on the top of a square gate-post under 
a willow tree to learn her hymns, thinking she 
would make her situation as pleasant as pos- 
sible while performing her duty. Unfortu- 
nately, she had left the gate open when she 
climbed up, and the field of growing wheat 
would be traversed by many mischievous little 
feet if it was not shut in time. Down she 
slipped, holding by the branches of the willow 
tree and giving a pretty good jump at the 
bottom, but she was in time to shut the gate ; 



FERNWOOD. 


43 


the first of the lambs had just come within a 
few yards of it, and the whole flock was rap- 
idly cantering after them, closely packed to- 
gether. 

Hattie was not afraid of lambs, of course, 
but finding herself surrounded by sheep, many 
of them distinguished by very lofty and 
twisted horns, she would much rather have 
remained out of harm’s way on her gate- 
post. Her promptness of action, however, 
regardless of her fears, had saved the wheat- 
field; and before she had become greatly 
alarmed the tall shepherd came through the 
dense mass of wool, and taking her up in his 
arms, carried her into the enclosed yard round 
the house and set her down in safety. 

You have saved me a great sight of 
trouble,” he said, ‘‘ and I’m very much obliged 
to you, indeed.” 

^^Oh, but it was my fault,” said Hattie, 
“ because I left the gate open when I climbed 
up to the top of the post to learn my hymns.” 

The man smiled at the honest little face. 

“ You needn’t go to telling on yourself, any- 
how,” he said. 

'^But you are praising me,” said Hattie, 
so I thought I ought to tell you that I did 


\ 


44 


FEENWOOD. 


notliing more than I ought to have done, after 
I had made the mischief.” 

“Well,” said the shepherd, “I must go back 
to those troublesome sheep, but I’ll tell my 
little girls what a good child you were.” 

Hattie decided not to return to her perch 
again, but retreated to a summer-house in the 
garden covered with vines, and there she ad- 
dressed herself once more to her task. 

Her grandfather had chosen for one of her 
hymns that beautiful one beginning with— 

“Jesus, my all, to heaven is gone, 

He whom I fix my hopes upon.” 

It seemed long and hard to Hattie, but she 
conquered it at last, and learned it, as she 
said, “ so tight ” that in after years she never 
forgot it; and there came a time when she 
deeply felt the beauty and the comforting 
truth of one of the verses particularly : 

“ Lo 1 glad I come ! and thou, blest Lamb 1 
Shalt take me to thee as I am ; 

Nothing but sin to thee I give ; 

Nothing but love shall I receive.” 

Oh how she loved to repeat those lines 
then ! but that time was still far in the future, 


FERNWOOD. 


45 


while now she was trying, by every means of 
association, to engraft the words on her mem- 
ory. 

Her Scripture verses seemed more easy to 
learn. When she thought she knew them, 
Myrtle, who was straying around, having 
missed the child, came into sight. 

“ Can you hear me say my.verses. Myrtle ?” 
asked Hattie. think I need not study 
them any more.” 

“ What verses are they, honey ?” 

^^The Sermon on the Mount,” said Hattie; 
^^here is the Testament.” 

Laws, dear child ! keep your Testament ; 
don’t you know poor old Myrtle doesn’t know 
how to read a word ?” 

“Oh, is that true. Myrtle?” said Hattie, 
much surprised. “Why, I might teach you 
some every day.” 

“ ’Most too old, I ’spect, Miss Harriet, by 
this time ; but you say your verses, honey, and 
I’ll set you straight if you go a little wrong.” 

Hattie began to recite the beautiful words ; 
she met with no check from the old servant 
until nearly the last verse^^ when Myrtle cor- 
rected her : she had misplaced a word. It 
was a small mistake, but when the lesson was 


46 


FERNWOOD. 


finished, Hattie looked, and found she had 
been wrong and Myrtle right. 

That sermon is better than any I ever 
heerd preached,” said the old woman, rever- 
ently ; “ there s heaps of comfort in it for poor 
down-trodden human beings. ^ Blessed are ye 
when men shall revile you, and persecute you,’ ” 
she went on. 

Why, Myrtle, you were one of the happy 
slaves in my great-grandfather’s time, weren’t 
you ? You -were never i^viled and persecuted, 
were you ?” 

Ah, my dear, them days are gone by so 
far now that it is not worth while to trouble 
your little heart with ’em. It was not by any 
of our folks that I saw trouble : the Merediths 
were known for their goodness ; but I’ve seen 
trials, and plenty of ’em, for his sake, that the 
blessed Master above has helped me to bear 
and live through.” 

You must be very old now. Myrtle,” said 
Hattie, innocently. 

That’s what I don’t rightly know, honey. 
I was but a child when the old master left me 
free ; that’s a good while ago now.” 

I hope you will live a great while longer, 
Myrtle, for grandma would miss you so much.” 


CHAPTER VII. 

ATURDAY morning brought constant 
occupation to Hattie. It was the cus- 
tom in the family to make all prepara- 
tions for Sunday that could be made, 
to save the necessity of cooking on 
that day. Hattie divided her time between 
her grandmother and Myrtle, waiting on both 
as only young and willing feet know how to 
wait. More fresh eggs had to be hunted up, 
and off the child posted to the barn to look for 
secreted nests, knowing from experience that 
hens are a little wayward sometimes, and pre- 
fer stealing their nests, as it is called, to going 
in an orderly way to the places made and pro- 
vided for them, no matter how comfortable 
they may be. She was successful in her 
search, coming back with eggs from two nests 
she had found, even to Myrtle's amazement; 
for she thought she was a match for the cun- 
ningest hen on the place. The healthy colour 
in Hattie's cheeks pleased her grandma; she 

47 



48 


FERNWOOD. 


felt satisfied that she was not overtasking the 
little girl, who would go all day and make no 
complaint if she thought she could be of ser- 
vice. Butter and cream from the lovely 
spring-house down in the meadow were also 
brought when needed. There was a sense of 
pleasant bustle through the kitchen ; the odour 
of nutmeg, rose-water, and cinnamon pervaded 
the atmosphere, almost to the exclusion of the 
perfume of climbing roses, jessamine, and 
sweet-brier, that were ordinarily so delicious 
in the early morning. After a time the gin- 
gerbread began to make itself known in the 
oven, asking to be taken out ; and every child 
knows how inviting that smell is. 

At length cakes, custards, pies, and pud- 
dings were finished and baked. The long 
kitchen-table by the wall stood pretty well 
covered with freshly-baked bread, and all the 
rest, from the great brick oven, where they had 
been shut up out of sight. Grandma washed 
her hands in the shed, took ofi* her apron, and 
said to Hattie, 

You have been a great help to Myrtle and 
me this morning, dear; I would not have 
been ready for the oven near so soon but for 
your quickness in running to bring me things. 


FEENWOOD. 


49 


Now, Myrtle, well have dinner on table as 
early as possible.” 

Hattie was a happy child that morning : not 
only had she been useful to her grandmother, 
but she had obtained much knowledge of the 
manner of making certain desserts from ob- 
serving the complete and skilful mode of put- 
ting things together. All that she saw was 
seen intelligently and remembered in after 
years, when housekeeping became her duty. 
This visit of recreation from school proved to 
be a time of actual training for some of the 
duties belonging to a woman's life, and such 
very pleasant training as it was ! But it had 
also deeper and better meaning, as Hattie 
proved before the season was ended. 

While they were at the dinner-table, two 
little girls arrived who had been invited that 
morning by notes from Mrs. Cheston to go 
with Hattie to the Pines. They had dined 
before leaving home. 

Grandma,” said Hattie, did you think I 
would not enjoy myself unless you brought 
company of my own age this afternoon ?” 

No, dear ; I knew you would have a pleas- 
ant time, even with us old people only, but I 
thought it would be still more pleasant if we 

5 D 


60 


FERNWOOD. 


had more children. And now I want to tell 
you something : one of these little girls, Euth 
Foster, is closely confined at home with an 
invalid mother ; she very seldom enjoys any 
recreation. You will be glad to have her 
share the ride with you, I am sure.” 

“ Indeed I will, grandma. Is she the little 
girl who lives in that cottage at the other side 
of the mill ?” 

“ Yes ; her father’s the miller, and an ex- 
cellent man ; her poor mother had a fall some 
months ago, and has been hardly able to walk 
since. She is better now, however, and I hope 
will get about again after a time. I like the 
family very much indeed.” 

“ And who is the other little girl, grand- 
ma?” 

Her name is Caroline Lee ; she is a niece 
of Dr. White’s wife, and is visiting at his 
house — a pale, delicate city child. Don’t you 
think the ride will do her good, too ?” 

“I hope it will, grandma, I am sure. Ill 
try to get acquainted with them, and play 
with them, but I wanted you to know that I 
would have been just as happy with you and 
grandpa and Myrtle as if I had playmates 
of my own age.” 


FERNWOOD. 


51 


I do not doubt it, Hattie, in the least, but 
we must not make an old woman of you, when 
you are just turned of ten years old, must 
we?” 

Hattie laughed merrily : “ No danger, 

grandma ! Now, will you take me in and tell 
them my name ?” 

After the early dinner, Mrs. Cheston went 
up to her room and rested half an hour, then 
the Jersey wagon with three seats was brought 
to the door ; the^ basket, with some of the nice 
things baked that morning, was put under one 
of the seats. Grandma and Myrtle sat behind, 
two little girls in the middle and one in front 
with Mr. Cheston ; they were to take turns in 
enjoying that post of honour through the ride 
of ten miles. 

A ride through ^Hhe Pines” in a Jersey 
wagon (a vehicle so seldom seen now) is so 
different from other rides that it is not easily 
forgotten. The first two or three miles were 
over hard and even roads, before the sandy 
region commenced. The wagon was made 
without any springs, and used for those deep, 
narrow, sandy roads which cross each other 
in all directions in such parts of New Jersey 
as this — long tracts of forest-land, tall, noble 


52 


FEENWOOD. 


pine trees towering up in their dark grandeur 
as far as the eye can reach. Then the whole- 
some, resinous odour, the pure-tasting air, the 
clean, pine-carpeted ground beneath the trees, 
so clear of underbrush, — all this Hattie en- 
joyed, with many comments upon every little 
pleasant thing, pointing out to her young com- 
panions various attractions that they would 
probably not have noticed themselves. 

Grandma told them incidents of her own 
youth when riding through these same roads, 
and talked so cheerfully that the little strangers 
soon felt at their ease and joined in the con- 
versation. 

But I don’t see any Cedar Swamp water 
yet, grandpa,” said Hattie. 

Wait a little longer, my dear; we’ll come 
to the timber presently ; we’ll meet the stream 
when you are not thinking about it. Here 
is a piece of woods so remarkably free from 
bushes and undergrowth that it is sought 
for pic-nics, camp - meetings, and political 
speech-making ; there’s the remains of a rude 
kind of platform now, where the last speaker 
held forth, I suppose.” 

“I remember,” said grandma, “a good, 
simple-hearted young man who sometimes 


FERNWOOD. 


53 


drove tlie carriage when I had friends staying 
with me, a great many years ago ; he never 
could pass this spot without dwelling on its 
advantages for open-air preaching. We gene- 
rally persuaded him to sing hymns for us in 
these lonely woods. He had a favourite hymn 
which he really sung well ; I have never heard 
any one else sing it, and I can just recall the 
chorus, which would come out with great fer- 
vour and much repetition : 

‘ He arose — he arose — he arose from the dead ; 

He arose, and went to heaven in a cloud.’ 

This wood never fails to bring those words 
and the touching air back to me, though so 
many years have passed.” 

*^That makes me think,” said grandpa, 
^Hhat children generally are not impressed 
as they should be with the importance of 
guarding the door to their memory in their 
young days. It is better never to allow 
rhymes or little sayings of any kind to take 
root in the mind, unless they are such as can 
be recalled with pleasure in after years. A 
foolish, silly verse learned in childhood from a 
companion may often give a grown person 
much trouble through life.” 


54 


FEKNWOOD. 


Myrtle said to Mrs. Cheston, in a low voice, 

“ My dear master is saying the very truth. 
What heaps of nonsense rhymes and foolish 
words do go from one child to another, sure 
enough, ma am ! Servants know, maybe, bet- 
ter than the mothers.” 

I could always trust you. Myrtle,” replied 
her mistress ; you know the danger.” 

“Look, Hattie,” said grandpa — “look on 
the right-hand side of the road! What do 
you see ?” 

“Such a dark stream of water, grandpa! 
It looks dirty and not a bit inviting.” 

“Yet that is clear, genuine Cedar Swamp 
water. I will get you some of it.” 

So the horses were stopped, and Mr. Ches- 
ton took from his pocket the leather drinking- 
cup that he generally carried out with him. 
When he brought the water to Hattie, she 
was surprised at its clearness* and when she 
tasted it and found it was not unpleasant, she 
was quite pleased. The other little girls de- 
clined it at first, but thirst induced them to 
try the water, and they were agreeably dis- 
appointed. 

One mile farther and their destination was 
reached — a venerable saw-mill belonging to 


FEKNWOOD. 


65 


tKe Cheston property ; the wheel was turned 
by this very stream of red water. When the 
wagon was unloaded of its living cargo, a 
huge pile of timber, ready sawed, not far from 
the road-side, made a convenient resting spot, 
and while Mrs. Cheston sat there, attended 
by her faithful servant, and grandpa went 
away to see about his rents, Hattie, Euth, and 
Caroline looked around for places where they 
could enjoy themselves. The air was simply 
delicious, so pure and exhilarating. Among 
the logs lying around waiting for their turn 
to be sawed into boards, they played hide-and- 
seek most charmingly; for blindman's-buff 
and other games that required plenty of room 
they had recourse to a more open space cov- 
ered with short grass. 

At length, after being out of sight an hour 
or more, Mrs. Cheston heard their voices 
again. 

Now, Myrtle,” she said, spread a cloth 
over this nice broad board, and get from the 
basket some refreshment for the dear children ; 
they must be hungry by this time.” 

“I hope the milk and cream are not all 
churned up in the bottles, mistress,” said 
Myrtle. No, these wet cloths wrapped round 


56 


FEENWOOD. 


have kept it just as sweet as if it was in the 
spring-house.” 

The ruskS; pies, and cake tasted as such 
things never had done before to the children 
in this strengthening air ; a little colour had 
made its appearance on the face of Caroline, 
while Hattie looked better than she had done 
at all. Poor little Puth, so much confined to 
the house with her womanly work, enjoyed 
everything in a wondering sort of way, as if 
she was out of her usual sphere, and could 
hardly believe that she might be free to play. 

Hattie did her best to make the time pass 
agreeably to them both. 

Oh, grandma,” she said, I was so hun- 
gry that I nearly forgot what I was going to 
tell you about.” 

The old cottage,” chimed in Euth. 

‘‘ And the green hollow,” added Caroline. 

“ Yes ; you’ll come, won’t you, grandma, and 
grandpa, too, and Myrtle ? It’s the sweetest 
little spot you ever saw.” 

“ Where, my dear ?” 

“The other side of this piece of woods, 
ma’am — not far off. We’ve been playing all 
sorts of nice plays since we went away from 
here.” 


FERNWOOD. 


57 


''Well drive round that way, Hattie, as 
we are going back; it is not more than a 
quarter of a mile from here. When we have 
finished our luncheon, it will be time to get 
the horses put to again ; they Ve had a good 
rest and feed, and you should have seen them 
drink the red water, Hattie,” said Mr. Ches- 
ton. 

" Grandma, I saw the house where the man 
lives who tends the saw-mill, and there were 
two or three little children playing round the 
yard.” 

"And oh, ma’am,” said Caroline, "you 
never saw such dirty, rough-looking little 
things as they were.” 

"Their hair looked as if it was burnt in 
the sun till it had no colour left,” said Euth, 
"and it was cut straight across their fore- 
heads.” 

"What were they doing?” asked Mrs. 
Cheston. 

" They were making mud-pies, ma’am,” 
said Caroline, laughing. 

" They were as happy in doing that, prob- 
ably, as many children in city nurseries are 
playing with wax dolls whose eyes will open 
and shut,” said Mrs. Cheston. 


58 


FERNWOOD. 


^^TKey looked as contented, ma'am, as if 
they were handsomely dressed and had an 
elegant baby-house like mine in town,” said 
Caroline. 

Oh, my dear, they would never know half 
as much pleasure in a room filled with beau- 
tiful toys as they feel now going about in 
their little shabby frocks and bare feet dig- 
ging and delving among the sand in this sweet, 
pure air. Nature is a delightful playmate; 
don’t you think so ?” 

The little girl smiled, but she had really 
known so little about the charms that Nature 
possesses that she could not honestly answer, 
Yes.” 

You will find there are many attractions 
in a country life,” said Mrs. Cheston, if you 
make a long visit at Dr. White’s, my dear ; and 
I hope to See you looking both red and brown 
before you return home.” 

“ She’s as white as a lily now, ma’am,” said 
Myrtle ; “ parties in the winter, I ’spect, and 
late going to bed. It makes children very 
puny.” 

I spoke about those rough children, grand- 
ma,” said Hattie, because I wanted to ask 
if all these scraps and pieces we have left, and 


FERNWOOD. 59 

some of the rusks, might go to them; we’ll 
take them over, if we may.” 

“ Myrtle had intended going there as soon 
as you had all satisfied your hunger, dear; 
we’ll leave a few cakes in the basket, lest you 
might want something as we ride home, hut 
the rest is all to go to these children, and I 
am glad you thought of them yourselves. 
You can play a little while longer, while 
Myrtle goes across there, and then come back 
and get ready for the ride home.” 

Half an hour afterward the wagon, once 
more packed up, had reached the spot so 
much admired by the children; they were 
allowed to get out again and point out the 
special attractions of the place. 

“ What do these green grassy hollows mean, 
grandpa ?” said Hattie. 

“There was once a very pretty cottage 
standing here, my dear; it was old when I was 
a boy, but occupied and kept in very neat 
order.” 

“ See the wild roses all about, climbing over 
the stones,” said Euth. 

“ Yes ; there was a beautiful old-fashioned 
garden here, nicely fenced in. Sweet herbs and 
tall white lilies grew here, and roses of every 


60 


FERNWOOD. 


kind in abundance: the woman who lived 
here was very fond of raising flowers, and 
had uncommon success with them. There are 
plants in our garden at home at this moment 
which were taken from roots in this one, roses 
particularly.” 

“ And what a very fine tree this is living 
yet among the ruins !” said Euth. 

Yes, an oak tree of great age, and there 
are not many trees handsomer than a large 
wide-spreading oak, to my mind,” said Mr. 
Cheston. 

Then, grandpa,” said Hattie, after think- 
ing a few moments, “ I suppose these green 
hollows like great saucers that we admired 
so much were the cellars of the cottage once, 
were they?” 

“You have found out their history, and 
there is nothing remarkable in.it. Can you 
fancy the hanging-shelf, with milk-pans and 
butter and bread standing on it ?” 

“ It seems hard to imagine all that. But 
what became of the people, and what made 
the house go down altogether, grandpa ?” 

“ The family who lived here in my young 
days,” said Mr. Cheston, “were for a few 
years as happy and well conducted a family 


FERNWOOD. 


61 


as there was in the neighbourhood. It was 
the old story — old to us who have lived many 
years, though new to you who are young. A 
peddler came along one day : the temptation 
was strong to buy of his wares, because there 
was no store within several miles ; he had all 
sorts of things in his wagon, and amongst the 
rest he had brandy, which he professed to sell 
very cheap. 

Neither the man nor his wife had been 
considered anything but perfectly temperate 
up to this time, but the taste for brandy was 
quickly formed, and the consequences during 
the next five years were degrading and sad 
to the last degree. The peddler who had been 
the first cause of their going astray continued 
to supply them at stated periods with the 
brandy which they craved, and there seemed 
to be no possibility of checking their down- 
ward career. On the 15th of January the 
wretched wife was seen in a state of stupor 
from the effects of liquor, and she was never 
again seen alive. The night following was 
bitterly cold. It was supposed the woman had 
fallen into the fire on the open hearth late at 
night ; the house took fire from her clothing, 
^and her husband, who was in bed in the next 

6 


62 


FEENWOOD. 


room^ was consumed in the flames, together 
with every board and timber of the dwelling. 

^'The ground was covered with snow, the 
stream frozen over, and the mill, of course, 
not working ; no one had any cause for travel- 
ling that lonely road, so that the terrible fate 
of these wretched victims of intemperance was 
not known for some time afterward — no one 
could say how long. 

My father never had the cottage rebuilt, 
but in place of it he put up the house in which 
the man lives who now attends to the mill.” 

It is a beautiful situation for a house,” 
said Mrs. Cheston. 

Yes, ma’am,” said Caroline. I’ve been 
thinking how much I should like to know 
how to draw, it looks so beautiful — the broken 
walls of stone, with the roses climbing over 
them, and the green hollows and this noble 
old tree. It would make a lovely picture.” 

In after years Caroline did sketch this very 
scene from memory, and loved to look upon it, 
reminding her as it did of the pleasant, inno- 
cent afternoon in her childhood spent with the 
dear old friends who were by that time quietly 
sleeping in their grassy graves. 


CHAPTER VIII. 


0 you liked the two little girls who 
went with us yesterday, did you, 
Hattie?"' said Mr. Cheston the next 
morning as they were driving to 
church. 

They were very pleasant, grandpa ; I think 
I should like them more if I knew them bet- 
ter,” answered Hattie. 

Well, that is paying them a great compli- 
ment,” said Mrs. Cheston. ^'Sometimes it 
happens that the more we know of people, the 
less cause we find to like them, but I have 
found that there is generally something we 
can like about everybody.” 

Yes, grandma, people are so different ; you 
can hardly know two persons alike. It would 
be strange if we could not find some nice ways 
about everybody whom we know.” 

^‘But, Hattie,” said grandpa, “there are 
two ways of looking at those we meet in our 
daily walks through life: we may discover 

63 



64 


FERNWOOD. 


their worst traits of character and dwell on 
them exclusively; or we may admire the good 
that is within and not think of the bad at all. 
There are some persons who cannot see any 
faults in their friends.” 

“ And there are some/’ said Mrs. Cheston, 
who cannot see anything hut faults. Either 
extreme is bad, because the very best of us 
have many faults and sins to repent of day 
after day, and the very worst may have some 
good qualities lying concealed that a fitting 
opportunity would bring to view. I am glad 
these little girls made a favourable impression 
on you, dear, because you can enjoy their 
company again, and they will be all the better 
for having a new playmate.” 

I think I said something about giving you 
a ride on horseback, Hattie,” said Mr. Ches- 
ton. We will ride over to Dr. White’s and 
visit that pale little city child while you are 
here.” 

“Oh, thank you, grandpa! I should like 
that very much. Euth lives near enough for 
me to go and see her at any time ; it will be 
a pleasant walk.” 

After church Hattie met Caroline standing 
under a tree waiting for her uncle’s carriage ; 


FERNWOOD. 


65 


she spoke to her in a friendly way, and Caro- 
line was evidently very much pleased to meet 
her again. 

Were you tired when you got home last 
night ?” said Hattie. 

was very tired. Aunt undressed me 
and put me in bed five minutes after I got in 
the house ; but I slept all night without wak- 
ing, and I am rested this morning. What a 
lovely time we had !” 

“ Oh, hadn’t we !” ‘exclaimed Hattie. But 
then I am always happy when I am with my 
grandpa and grandma.” 

“ They are so kind to you, I don’t wonder.” 

^^It is not only that,” said Hattie, “but 
they are so good, and they have such pleasant 
tempers. I never saw either of them angry 
in my life. Everything seems to go just right 
in their house.” 

Hattie would have loved and revered her 
grandmother still more if she had known that 
the sweet temper she admired so much was an 
originally quick and high temper, subdued by 
the power of religion only. 

“ How glad you must be to make a visit 
there !” said Caroline. 

“I’m counting the days,” said Hattie. “ I 

6-^ E 


66 


FEENWOOD. 


am afraid I can only stay two or three days 
longer.” 

Just then Dr. White called to Caroline, and 
she hastily said good-bye to her new friend 
and went to get into the carriage. Mr. Ches- 
ton’s plain carriage — not the Jersey wagon, 
however — drew up next, and Hattie rode home 
with her grandparents. 

Toward the close of the afternoon Mr. 
Cheston called Hattie to him as he sat on the 
shady piazza. She was ready, and repeated 
her two hymns without missing a word. 
Grandpa kissed her, and called her “ his good 
little girl,” which made her feel well repaid 
for the trouble of learning the hymns, but 
besides that, as he told her, she was now in 
possession of comforting and beautiful words 
that would come to her mind some time when 
she might be sick and unable to read, or in 
some lonely situation where they would seem 
like familiar friends to her. He said he had 
many a time felt grateful to his mother for 
having caused him to learn hymns to repeat 
to her on Sunday. When he was a thoughtless 
boy, the task was disagreeable to him, yet he 
dared not refuse, and now his memory was 
stocked with beautiful hymns that were fre- 


FERNWOOD. 


67 


quently a source of great comfort and pleasure 
to him ; when he could not sleep at night, or 
when he was riding alone through the deep 
woods, he loved to repeat them. 

When Hattie came to recite her Bible verses, 
she was not so perfect in them, but after her 
grandmother had called to mind the incidents 
of that morning when she was learning her 
lessons, she very kindly excused her, only 
requesting that the same verses might be 
learned perfectly on the following Sunday. 

“ But, grandma,” said the child, don’t you 
think it was very strange how Myrtle could 
hear me say the Sermon on the Mount, and 
know it so well herself, when she could not 
read?” 

Yes, dear, I would think it very strange 
if I did not remember how she was taught in 
her youth. My mother would have her come 
and sit with us on Sunday while we learned 
our Bible lessons, and we learned them aloud, 
verse by verse, so that Myrtle could learn 
them too, and she was expected to repeat them 
as well as we did ; the lessons were made short 
on purpose.” 

Why .didn’t she learn to reap'd, grandma?” 

I don’t know, except that in those days, 


68 


FEENWOOD. 


when slavery existed in New Jersey, as it did 
in her childhood, it was not customary for 
slaves to be taught reading or writing. My 
grandfather s people were tended very kindly, 
and well cared for, but they were never taught 
to read.” 

“ Here is a Sunday-school paper, Hattie, I 
brought home for you to read,” said Mr. 
Cheston ; there are some nice pieces in it.” 

“ Oh, thank you, grandpa ! it is not the 
same that they take in our Sunday-school at 
home. I think it looks more — ” 

^^What, dear?” said grandma — ^^more in- 
teresting ?” 

Yes, ma’am ; I like little stories.” 

^‘How much more,” said Mrs. Cheston, 
the children of these days would enjoy the 
papers and cards and magazines which are 
scattered abroad so plentifully if they could 
feel for one year the want of nice Sunday 
reading as I used to do ! 

There was very little reading that would 
interest children when I was small, and we 
were not allowed to read every-day books, so 
the Catechism was made to fill up much of our 
time ; and it did seem hard to learn ; the words 
were so long. There was a paper taken in the 


FERNWOOD. 


69 


house of a religious character ; I cannot re- 
member the name of it now, but it was too 
difficult for me to understand, so I could 
not enjoy it, of course, but one day I found 
something that I could understand, and enjoy 
also, and I never failed to read it when Sun- 
day came, afterward.” 

What was it, grandma ?” 

It was a simple but very touching piece 
of poetry called ‘ The Orphans,’ beginning — 

‘ My chaise the village inn had gained.’ ” 

“Will you show it to me, grandma?” said 
Hattie, with great animation. 

“ Be sure I will. It has not been printed for 
some years, but, to my great joy, I saw it again 
a few weeks ago brought to light by some one 
who seemed to love it as well as I did, and to 
wish that it should not be forgotten.” 

“ Where will I find it, grandma ?” 

“ In my writing-desk, my dear — cut from a 
newspaper — a printed roll;” and Hattie ran 
ofi* to find the verses. 

When she returned, grandpa said, 

“ Bead them aloud, little woman ; I should 
like to have them revived too.” 

Hattie coloured slightly; she feared her 


70 


FERNWOOD. 


reading was hardly good enough for such an 
audience, but the request was enough; and 
first asking if Myrtle might come and listen 
also, she went to find and bring her, and then 
read with much feeling the old-time poem. 

When she had finished, Mr. Cheston said. 
Yes, where there was one pretty little 
story or attractive piece of poetry in my 
young days, there are a hundred now. Chil- 
dren are well provided for in good books of 
all sorts. How much they ought to profit 
by it 

Simple as this story is,” observed grandma, 
it is one a child could scarcely help liking to 
read more than once.” 

“ Poor little things !” said Myrtle ; don't I 
remember how old mistress used to cry over 
that piece when she read it out to us ser- 
vants !” 

Hattie seemed much impressed by the story, 
and sat quietly poring over the verses until 
the evening began to darken and the tea-bell 
rang. 


CHAPTER IX. 

H, grandma, there comes a nice little 
donkey up the lane !” said Hattie, the 
next morning. 

^^Yes, and that is Caroline riding 
on him, coming to make you a call, 
I suppose.” 

Hattie went out to welcome her friend, who 
jumped lightly down from the saddle, and 
seemed very glad to have found the place 
again by herself. 

“But I begged auntie so hard to let me 
come,” she said, “ she could not refuse.” 

“ Your ride has given you quite a healthy 
colour,” said Mrs. Cheston. “You will soon 
get strong and well in this pure country air, 
my dear.” 

“ I am stronger already, Mrs. Cheston. 
When I first came, two weeks ago, auntie used 
to give me beef-tea to nourish me, and let me 
sleep in the morning to rest me. I get up 
now when the others do, and I can eat any- 



72 


FERNWOOD. 


thing on the table. I am a great deal better, 
but I am not well yet, I know.” 

“We think Hattie has improved too. She 
went to school very steadily all winter, and 
was rather more ambitious in her class than 
was good for her ; so when spring came, her 
cheeks were too white, but if it had not been 
for her teacher s absence, I am afraid we would 
not have ‘had her with us for some time yet 
to strengtl^n her up.” 

“ If there’s any place in the world, grandma, 
where I can get strength, it is here in this 
dear old homestead ; it seems so natural here, 
with you and grandpa and Myrtle. I had 
rather stay here all summer than go to water- 
ing-places, for there I could not feel at home.” 

Yes, and even little children have to be 
dressed up so much that they can’t half play 
and enjoy themselves. Mother did not let me 
bring a single one of my party dresses when 
she sent me out here to Aunt White’s to get 
well. She said she wanted me to run about 
and to ride my donkey and forget all about 
the city,” said Caroline. 

Caroline had been conducted into the usual 
sitting-room ; it was not long after breakfast, 
and Hattie had resumed the work she had 


FERNWOOD. 73 

been doing, which was stringing beans and 
breaking them up. 

Grandma had finished her usual china 
washing, though the table was not yet put 
up, and Caroline observed the comfortable, 
home-like look of everything about. Judg- 
ing from her standard of city life and city 
houses, she thought to herself, ‘^And these 
are the rich people — the old Cheston family, 
as auntie says ! Why, they seem as simple 
and nice as if they were not rich at all, and 
I m sure that chintz-covered sofa does not 
look very handsome.” 

Caroline would have admired it more if she 
could have seen it when the venerable form 
of Hattie’s grandfather was resting upon it of 
an evening after his labours through the day. 
There was comfort in the broad old sofa if it 
was plain and old-fashioned. 

Children cannot always distinguish between 
the glitter of new and modern furniture and 
the substantial look of time-worn articles that 
have been handed down in good order from 
one generation to another, — all the more valu- 
able for that fact. And so it is with manners : 
they cannot always recognize in the quiet, un- 
assuming tone of voice and gentle smile the 
7 


74 


FERNWOOD. 


manner of a true woman, but are more attracted 
by a certain gloss and display of good breed- 
ing, — something that makes more of a sensa- 
tion. 

While Caroline was waiting, however, until 
Hattie finished her work, she gradually per- 
ceived that the atmosphere of the old Mere- 
dith homestead was very different from that 
of some of the city houses which she had 
considered so grand and elegant. Mrs. Ches- 
ton talked cheerfully and pleasantly, without 
making the slightest parade of dignity, but 
yet in her presence it would have been very 
hard to say a careless or rude word, and 
still more to do an unbecoming action. There 
were marks of refinement everywhere, from 
the flowers about the room to the dainty little 
work-table. The one favoured cat of the 
household sat in the sunshine, curled up in 
one of the window-seats ; a canary bird hung 
outside in a roomy cage, pouring forth, every 
few minutes, its rich and varied song. 

The window-shades were* arranged so as 
to make a soft, agreeable light in the room; 
there was a prevailing sense of harmony. It 
was no wonder Hattie loved to spend days at 
the old place, Caroline thought. 


4 



jferntooolJ. 



tiranclrna," said Hattie, “please tell us about this great long 
piece of calico with pockets. What is it for?” p. 75. 


FERNWOOD. 


75 


At length the beans were finished and 
taken out to Myrtle. The two children then 
retired to the broad sofa, and grandma was 
amused presently to hear Hattie describing 
the silver chain for the scissors and pin-cush- 
ion and talking about the peculiar kind of 
dress worn in old times. Finding their 
thoughts were occupied with such things, she 
took out of her work-table drawer an article 
which even Hattie had never seen before, and 
asked questions about at once. It was called 
a thread-case. 

“Grandma,” said Hattie, “please tell us 
about this great long piece of calico with 
pockets and long divisions all down it ; what 
was it for ?” 

“ ill my mother’s time, Hattie, there were 
no nice smooth spools of cotton or thread, 
such as you have always known. Thread was 
used much more than it is now, and it came in 
skeins ; these skeins were cut open at one end, 
and they were drawn up through these casings 
by the end that was not cut, and then used, a 
needleful at a time. Cotton was done the 
same way ; there was a kind called wire cotton, 
very firm and fine ; you will find a little skein 
of it, I think, in one of the pockets. Then here 


4 


76 


FEENWOOD. 


are the red flannel needle-flaps, worked round 
the edges ; flannel kept the needles from get- 
ting rusty. There would be black sewing- 
silk and different sizes of thread drawn 
through the casings ; there are five in this one, 
so as to supply all demands. The thimble 
was kept in one of the pockets, and small 
work could be kept there also. Women, when 
they went out to tea with each other, spend- 
ing a long sociable afternoon, could take their 
work and materials for doing it in this com- 
pact form in their capacious pockets.” 

“ I think those days must have been very 
pleasant, grandma.” 

“ From my own memory as a child, I should 
say so too, dear, and, indeed, things were not 
entirely changed when I was grown up. There 
was greater simplicity then, and more cordi- 
ality among friends ; a visit meant something 
more than a mere form in return for another 
visit of the same sort, and little things were 
given and received kindly. For instance, I re- 
member hearing my mother tell me that she 
went one day in early summer with her moth- 
er to visit an old friend who had been long 
confined to her room with illness. My grand- 
mother got ready after dinner, and then went 


4 


FERNWOOD. 


77 


into her garden and picked a handful of 
scented ‘ shrubs ’ that had just come. My 
mother, though very young at the time, told 
me she was struck with the effect produced 
by this simple little attention. Grandmother 
pressed them a little, to bring out their per- 
fume, and going up to her friend, she held 
them to her, saying : ‘ There are some things 
that will do you good: only smell them !’ and 
the invalid, taking them, replied in the same 
grave way : ‘ How kind you are ! Oh, they 
are proper sweet, and make me think of 
spring.' She seemed revived by the little 
brown shrubs and the breath of garden bloom 
which they had brought with them. 

“ In the same way other small tokens of good- 
will were received among mutual friends ; no 
need of a bunch of hothouse flowers, camellias, 
and similar rare delicacies, or of a basket of 
imported fruit: a nosegay, as it was called, 
made up of roses, sweet brier, jessamine, and 
a sprig of old man or southernwood, with 
a white lily in the middle, was handsome 
enough for anybody, and oh how sweet the 
mingled perfume was in the parlour!" 

After examining the threaicase thoroughly, 
Hattie and Caroline talked for some time 


78 


FERNWOOD. 


about the way of living in past days gener- 
ally. From wbat Mrs. Cheston had told Hat- 
tie, who, as she said, “ thought she liked old 
times,” the child was able to talk quite intel- 
ligently on the subject. She admired many 
of the ancient ways and customs and much 
of the furniture and style of living, and was 
also able to describe them to Caroline; but 
still, on comparison, she thought there had 
been a change for the- better. 

You do think, then, Hattie, that in some 
respects the present times have improved on 
the past ?” 

‘‘Yes, grandma, I do. I would have liked 
the quiet, I think, and the comfortable things 
they had then, for I do not like railroads, nor 
anything that makes much noise and fuss, 
but—” 

“Well, dear, I believe there was quite as 
much to make people happy in those days as 
there is now, for happiness does not depend so 
much upon what we are surrounded by as 
upon what we are within our own selves, but 
in one respect you will admit you are living 
in a more favoured time.” 

“ What is that, grandma ?” 

“There are more religious privileges now 


FERNWOOD. 


79 


than formerly, there are more churches and 
ministers, and there is more activity in form- 
ing societies for the religious improvement of 
young people especially. But perhaps you are 
too young to understand this yet ; as you grow 
older you will be able to see for yourselves 
how the waste places in our country have 
been made to rejoice and blossom as the rose 
through the agency of self-denying men who 
have gone out to preach the gospel to those 
who. would not have heard it otherwise.” 

Just then the most remarkable noise was 
heard out in the yard, and Hattie, who had 
never heard it before, jumped in affright. 

Caroline laughed heartily. 

“ Why, it is only my little Jenny braying,” 
she said ; “ she wants me to come out and let 
her go home.” 

The children went out to quiet the impa- 
tient donkey, and when Caroline asked what 
time it was, she was not surprised that the 
animal had called her, so bidding Mrs. Ches- 
ton good-bye and begging Hattie to come and 
visit her at Dr. White’s, she mounted her little 
steed and rode away. 


CHAPTER X. 

E’LL go round by the mill, Hattie ; 
you would like to stop and see Ruth, 
wouldn’t you ?” 

Grandpa was mounted on his fine 
bay horse, and by his side was Hat- 
tie, perched on a tall but very gentle horse, 
taking her first lesson on the side saddle. 

Yes, sir,” was the answer, and then Hat- 
tie directed her attention altogether to the de- 
mands of her new situation ; she was not 
exactly afraid, but yet the horse’s head did 
look very big, going up and down as he 
moved right in front of her, and her hand 
looked so little to hold the reins. Most chil- 
dren can recall their feelings when they were 
first put on horseback ; they are not those of 
unmixed pleasure, generally. 

Mr. Cheston told the little girl to keep close 
by his side, so that at any moment he could 
put out his hand and take hold of her horse’s 
80 



% 


FERNWOOD. 


81 


rein. He walked his horse to suit her gait 
until she grew more confident. 

At the mill he stopped and lifted her down 
to rest and have a chat with Euth. Mrs. 
Foster continued to be sick, and Euth had 
been kept very busy waiting on her mother 
and attending to the family wants. Her thin 
little face brightened up when she saw H^Ct- 
tie. 

Come in and see mother,” she said ; she 
wants to see you.” 

“ I’m afraid I shall disturb her,” said Hat- 
tie. 

“ Ho ; she has had a good night’s rest, and 
feels better this morning since her breakfast.” 

So Hattie went into a down-stairs room, 
where poor Mrs. Foster was lying in bed, very 
pale, but with an expression of patience on 
her countenance that quite touched Hattie’s 
kind heart. Taking Hattie’s hand, she said, 

“ Euth tells me she had such a pleasant ride 
to the Pines with you, my dear, that I have 
been wanting to see you and thank you for 
taking her that day. She has but few plea- 
sures, poor child ! while I am confined to my 
room.” 

Euth made it pleasanter for all of us, Mrs. 

F 


82 


FEKNWOOD. 


Foster,” said Hattie; had a lovely time 
playing at the old mill in the Pines. But are 
you not getting better now ?” 

The doctor thinks I am, and I believe I 
am gaining strength slowly; I want to get 
about again, if it is only to relieve Kuth. You 
would be surprised if you knew how much she 
does every day in the way of housekeeping.” 

^^Do you get very tired, Euth?” asked 
Hattie. 

^^Oh yes, very tired, but then- I sleep it 
all off at night, for I do not wait upon mother 
except through the day ; when she was at the 
worst, a neighbour woman sat up with her, 
and now she does not need anything in the 
night, unless it is a drink of water.” 

“ Your dear grandmother has been very 
kind in sending me nourishing things,” said 
Mrs. Foster, and I think I am getting better 
all the sooner for it. That good woman of 
hers comes over every morning and brings 
me some little delicacy and inquires how I am 
getting^ along.” 

How very quietly grandma must do her 
deeds of kindness!” thought Hattie. ^^This 
is the first I have known about sending things 
to Mrs. Foster.” As her visit became longer, 


FEENWOOD. 


83 


slie found that there were others besides the 
miller’s wife who were cheered and comforted 
by ■ the remembrance and attentions of this 
good Christian woman, who proved herself a 
neighbour in the fullest Christian meaning, 
and made no outward display of benevolence. 

■ Kuth wanted to show her new . friend some- 
thing that would interest her, but she really, 
possessed nothing at that time worth showing 
except a very playful kitten of exactly the 
right age to be attractive. While Kuth was 
going in and out waiting on her mother, 
Hattie found the time pass quite pleasantly in 
watching the gambols of this graceful kitten. 

- Mr. Cheston came back from the mill, where 
he had been speaking with Mr. Foster, and 
then he placed Hattie again on her saddle. 

Are you afraid ?” Ruth asked. 

Just a little, but I am getting used to the 
motion ; I felt as if I must fall off when I first 
began to ride.” 

Sit square on the saddle,” said the miller, 
and keep your eyes looking straight between 
the horse’s ears ; it don’t do to be one-sided 
or ^crooked when you’re on horseback.” 

: Hattie found this simple piece of advice to 
be . of great service to her in her further ride. 


84 


FEENWOOD. 


Telling Eutli she would come and see her 
again soon if she was not sent for to go home, 
she said ‘‘ Good-bye!” to all of them, and start- 
ed off again. 

Dr. White s house was rather more than a 
mile farther on. Hattie had never been there 
before. A long lane led up to a fine large 
brick house having a double balcony, enclosed 
with a massive railing on the first and second 
stories; there were two gables presented to 
the front, each having a semicircular window 
in it, and there were also two front doors 
that opened on the long piazza beneath the 
gables. 

The house had been built many years pre- 
viously by a French gentleman of consider- 
able wealth and great taste. Such a garden 
as he had laid out 1 Many traces of its beauty 
were still left, although there had not been 
riches enough in any family owning the place 
since his death to keep the garden up to its 
original design. The square beds for vege- 
tables were immense, bordered with box and 
intersected by wide gravel- walks ; then at 
each corner of the bed, in most instances, a 
fruit tree had been planted, trained to a trellis 
that was made to extend some distance on two 


FERNWOOD. 


85 


sides. Peaclies, pears, and plums looked very 
inviting, hanging against these trellises, when 
they were ripe. Long grape arbours extend- 
ed through another part of the garden, and in 
a grassy square, given up to itself alone, stood 
a magnificent pine tree, — a well-grown tree 
when the place was purchased, and now very 
old. The pride of the garden, in the esti- 
mation of its owner, was this pine tree; he 
enjoyed its shade and planned many of its 
improvements while reclining on the grass 
beneath it, with his delicate cigar and his 
memories of the chateau at home, which his 
new house in a new country was intended to 
resemble in many respects ; but could he have 
known that immediately after his sudden 
death the progress of improvement would be 
checked and his residence never brought to 
the state of perfection he had intended, he 
would scarcely have commenced building on 
so large a scale. When his estate came to be 
settled, there was not one of the heirs who 
could claim the whole of his place, and ikwas 
therefore sold at a sacrifice and the money 
divided. Beautiful as it certainly was still, 
there was a degree of sadness mingled with 
admiration in the minds of those who wan- 


86 


FEENWOOD. 


dered among the wide walks and variegated 
flower-beds. 

Caroline s favourite retreat was the second- 
story balcony extending almost across the 
entire front of the house. After the arrival 
of Hattie, she conducted her up stairs and led 
her out through the door-window in the entry, 
calling her attention to the very pretty pros- 
pect to be seen from this position. There 
were no mountains nor even hills, to be sure, 
but the river flowing at the foot of the lawn 
made a bright feature in the landscape. Some- 
body has said that a river is a great deal of 
company in scenery, and it is true. Reflect- 
ing as it does the changing colours of the 
clouds and sky, there is a constant variety 
about it. Of a bright, clear day the river 
looks blue, and the waters go rippling along 
beneath the sunny sky, as if out for a holiday. 
Then, when a storm is gathering, the black 
clouds are doubled in the dark and angry- 
looking water beneath, here and there flecked 
with foam on the tiny waves; and when, after 
a thunder-storm, there comes a brilliant sun- 
set, how beautiful are the gorgeous masses of 
purple, amber, and crimson clouds clustering 
together in the west, and then gradually part- 


FERNWOOD. 


87 


ing and covering the sky with fragments of 
torn fleece, all reflected in the river, which 
seems filled with clouds as it rolls silently on 
in the gathering twilight. 

Hattie expressed great admiration of Caro- 
line s ‘Wiew,” and then returned into the 
house, and was conducted to a special little 
room which Mrs. White had kindly given 
Caroline to be her playroom while she was 
making.this .visit for her health. 

- ^‘ Auntie is very kind to me," she said: ^'no 
one could be kinder, but, Hattie, I am lone- 
some, for all that." 

Are you ?" said Hattie ; why, Caroline, I 
could live all the time with my grandparents 
and never want any more society." 

^^Then you did not want me, I suppose," 
said Caroline, slightly offended. 

Hattie was confused ; she was too honest to 
contradict Caroline, remembering that she had 
rather declined the proposal of asking the little 
girls to go with her to the Pines, but always 
finding truth the safest thing to say, she would 
not swerve from it for the sake of politeness ; 
she replied, 

“ My grandmother told me that you were 
here on a visit, and that you had not been 


88 


FEENWOOD. 


very well, so then I was glad to have you 
come with us. But what I meant was this : 
my grandmother is such good company that 
I cannot feel lonesome when I am there ; we 
have the nicest talks about old times, and be- 
sides that, I think I am of some little use to 
her in going about the house and waiting on 
her.” 

Well, you see, I don’t care one bit about 
old times, and auntie keeps servants who wait 
on her. I like to go to parties, and to eat ice 
cream, and — ” 

What else?” 

<<Why, if you must know, I like beaux; 
there are several young gentlemen — mother 
calls them boys — who walk home from school 
with me and carry my books, and then, when 
I go to a party, I am pretty sure to meet 
them, and they ask me to dance with them.” 

^^And you like to dance, do you?” said 
Hattie. 

^^’Indeed I do ! There’s nothing, hardly, I 
like so well at a party, except the good 
supper.” 

like jumping the rope,” said Hattie, 
“ and I like to play battledore and shuttlecock. 
Grandpa plays with me in the long hall ; we 


FERNWOOD. 


89 


kept up two hundred the last time we played, 
one rainy day. Is this your doll, Caroline ?” 

It is one of my dolls, but I believe I am 
getting too old to play with dolls ; they don’t 
seem to interest me as much as they used to. 
One of the boys laughed at me for playing with 
dolls, and I have never cared so much about 
them since.” 

“ Come over and see me when you have 
leave,” said Hattie, “and you will love my 
grandmother, I am sure ; she tells me things 
that happened when she was young, and she 
is so good to the poor and sick people.” 

“ Yes ; I have heard uncle speak of her. He 
finds out the good she does when he is visit- 
ing his patients ; you know he is a doctor.” 

“I hear them calling us,” said Hattie. “ I 
only came for a little visit this time ; when I 
can. I’ll come and stay longer, if you feel so 
lonesome.” 

Down stairs, Mrs. White had set out some 
refreshments for Mr. Cheston and Hattie; she 
was extremely polite in her manners, begging 
that Hattie would come again frequently to 
see her niece. 

“ Poor child !” she said ; “ after such a lively 
and exciting winter as she has had, she finds 
8 * 


90 


FERNWOOD. 


the country rather lonely, but her health is so 
much impaired that the doctor thinks she will 
have to continue with us some time longer, 
and be as much in the open air as possible, to 
regain her strength.” 

Going home, Hattie found she could man- 
age her horse with increased ease, and that 
she could trust herself to talk a little without 
having her words broken in two by the jerks, 
so she said. 

Grandpa, do you think it is a good plan 
for little girls like Caroline and me to go to 
parties so much in winter and stay up late 
dancing, and then eat hot suppers?” 

Mr. Cheston smiled at the sober question. 

‘‘Don’t you think you would like it?” he 
said. 

“ Ho, sir, I know I shouldn’t ; I should get 
so tired. Why, I always was ready for my bed 
by nine o’clock, just as soon as I had learned 
« my lessons.” 

“ I should prefer my children keeping early 
hours,” said Mr. Cheston, “and not having 
their heads turned with so much gayety, but 
I do not pretend to judge for the parents of 
other children; my opinion is, they will see 
their mistake quite soon enough without my 


FEENWOOD. 


91 


pointing it out to them, or at all events quite 
plainly enough/’ 

If Caroline had been used to the country, 
she would not feel so lonesome as she does 
now, I think, grandpa.” 

“You must teach her to enjoy herself, my 
dear; have her at the house, and grandma 
will soon make her see things better worth 
enjoying than dancing at a large ‘ children’s 
party.’ You would rather dance on the mea- 
dow with old Nep, wouldn’t you?” 

“ Indeed I would,” said the child, laughing. 
“ There’s more fun in it.” 

“Well, little horsewoman, here we are safe 
home at last ; have you had a pleasant ride ?” 

“Very pleasant, thank you, sir. Do you 
think I can learn to manage a horse, grand- 
pa?” 

“ Why, to be sure I think so ; you sat better 
and steadier coming home than you did going, 
and you could talk besides, but you must ex- 
pect to be very stiff to-morrow;” and Mr. 
Cheston lifted his little girl down to the piaz- 
za, bidding her give grandma an account of 
her experiment in horseback exercise, and 
then lie down and rest for a while. 


CHAPTER XI. 


WO weeks had passed, and there were 
no signs of the school to which Hattie 
belonged commencing. 

She had received more than one 
note from her mother, telling her to 
stay contented where she was until she was 
sent for, and her grandparents were very 
glad to have her society, and to teach her 
and help her recover her strength, as she was 
rapidly doing. 

One morning, just as Hattie was putting 
flowers into the old-fashioned jars of East In- 
dia china which stood on the parlour mantel- 
piece — for the garden was so full of flowers 
that Hattie found enough to renew the supply 
in all the vases every morning — Myrtle put her 
head in at the door to say, 

‘^The little donkey’s coming to see you 
again, honey,” and went back to her work. 

Hattie went to the front door, and saw 
Caroline riding up the lane very slowly, and 

92 



FEENWOOD. 


93 


as slie came near the gate where Hattie stood 
waiting for her, she looked more white even 
than usual. 

“ I’m glad to see you, Caroline,” said Hat- 
tie, brightly. You’ll get off and come into 
the house?” 

My head aches so that I had better not, 
Hattie. When I came out, auntie thought the 
fresh air would do me good, but it has not. 
Only that I was so lonesome and wanted to see 
you, I would have turned back after the first 
half mile.” 

I’m glad you did not,” said Hattie. Come 
into the sitting-room and lie on the old sofa. 
I’ll bathe your head, and I know grandma can 
find something that will do you good.” 

The prospect was a tempting one, and Car- 
oline got off her donkey at once. Hattie tied 
it fast to the post, and then the two children 
went into the shady, quiet room. 

Grandma came forward and received poor 
little Caroline with her motherly kindness. 

Take her hat, my dear, and bring a pillow 
from up stairs. You’ll find a bottle of cam- 
phor in my closet, and one of cologne-water 
too ; bring them both with you.” 

Caroline was laid comfortably on the sofa, 


94 


FERNWOOD. 


while Hattie commenced her duties as nurse. 
The child looked very pale and ill, Mrs. Ches- 
ton thought. 

Hattie bathed her forehead and fanned her, 
and in a little while grandma" came back to 
the room with some cooling leaves bruised 
and spread on linen, which she bound on the 
soles of her feet. The room was made pleas- 
antly dark, and in a quarter of an hour Caro- 
line was in a sweet sleep. 

Poor child !’' .Mrs. Cheston said to herself ; 
^^she must have felt very lonely, to set out 
on a -fide to see Hattie when her head ached 
so badly.” Finding the sleep continued, she 
withdrew Hattie from the room, partly closing 
the door! ..i : . 

^'How sorry I am for Caroline, grandma!” 
said Hattie. ^^She does not seem happy to 
me.” 

No, my dear, she is not happy, I am sure. 
It seems to me that something connected with 
her pleasures of last winter has left a sting 
behind it ; she may possibly tell you what it 
is when she gets better acquainted with you.” 

They were walking in the garden, and pres- 
ently Mr. Cheston joined them. 

Would you like another ride on horse- 


FERNWOOD. 95 

back tbis beautiful morning, little girl?” be 
said. 

Ob yes, sir, indeed I would !” Hattie 
eagerly replied, and then suddenly remem- 
bering ber friend in tbe bouse, sbe added, 
But I cannot very well go to-day.” 

And wby not ? Are you very busy ? I am 
going, anybow, on business a few miles off, so 
that you must not deny yourself thinking I 
will be put to inconvenience to take you, my 
dear,”; Mr.’ Cbeston said. 

“ If you mean, my child, that it would not 
be kind, to go and .leave. Caroline,” said Mrs. 
Cbeston, ‘‘ I can make, your mind easy about 
that. You can leave word at Dr. White’s 
that we will keep . Caroline until evening, and 
by that time I think sbe will be much better. 
I’ll take good care of ber if sbe should wake 
up before you get back, and I do not think 
sbe will.” 

Yes, Hattie, you are to get all tbe strength 
you can while you have your holiday; so I 
think you bad better come with me, but I do 
not insist on it,” said Mr. Cbeston, who could 
not but admire tbe little girl’s unselfishness, 
for he knew sbe would love to go with him. 

Grandma turned tbe scale in favour of 


96 


FEENWOOD. 


Hattie’s going, by saying she would prefer 
nursing Caroline herself for the next few 
hours, to avoid excitement, and then she went 
gladly to get ready. 

Mr. Cheston made it convenient to ride 
round by Dr. White’s. Mrs. White was very 
much concerned that her niece should have 
gone from home without letting her know 
how very sick she felt ; she said she thought 
the fresh air would soon relieve a trifling 
headache, and therefore indulged her in her 
wish to visit Hattie. 

harm will come of it, I think,” said 
Mr. Cheston. ^‘We thought a good sleep 
would be the best thing for her, and if she 
wakes up refreshed, she and Hattie will have 
all the afternoon to talk over their important 
afiairs, and in the mean time I must give my 
little scholar her horseback lesson.” 

‘‘I am very grateful for your kindness,” 
said Mrs. White, and will try to be satisfied, 
though I regret her going because of the 
trouble she is giving.” 

^'Please say not one word of that kind, 
madam,” said Mr. Cheston. ^^You surely 
know my good wife is never more suited with 
her employment than when she is nursing.” 


FERNWOOD. 


97 


Mrs. White smiled, knowing how true that 
was, and called out, just as they were bidding 
her Good -morning,” that she would send 
over for Jenny, and her uncle would bring 
Caroline home in the evening. 

This matter being comfortably settled, Hat- 
tie gave herself up to the enjoyment of her 
ride and to the instructions of her grandfather. 
She was very quick in comprehending what 
he told her, and felt herself gaining con- 
fidence in controlling her horse every mo- 
ment. 

9 • G 


CHAPTEE XII. 


f AKOLINE continued to lie quietly, as 
if asleep, for some time, either Mrs. 
Cheston or Myrtle going frequently to 
the half-open door to listen, when all 
of a sudden she cried out in her sleep. 
They were both with her instantly. Mrs. 
Cheston asked Myrtle to open the shutter and 
let in more light ; then bending over the little 
girl, she was troubled with the expression of 
her eyes, which were now wide open and had 
an excited look. 

^'What is the matter, my dear?” said 
grandma. ‘‘Have you had an unpleasant 
dream ?” 

Caroline closed her eyes again, and a frown 
came on her forehead. 

“Oh yes — yes,” she said; “it was that 
dreadful thing !” 

“ Get me some water. Myrtle, please,” said 
Mrs. Cheston, “ and I’ll give her a composing 
draught.” 

98 


FERNWOOD. 


99 


Caroline drank it, but seemed feverish and 
far from well ; after a little while she seemed 
more like herself, however, and said : 

must go home now, Mrs. Cheston. I 
am not well enough to play with Hattie.” 

Is your head better, my child ?” 

Yes, ma'am ; bathing it did it good. It 
does not ache much now.” 

''Well, lie still a little while longer: you 
had better not move yet; and I will sit by 
you all the' time and keep bad dreams away.” 

The child languidly laid her head down 
again on the pillow. " I shall never forget it 
long enough to keep the dream from coming,” 
she said. 

" Forget what, my dear ?” said Mrs. Ches- 
ton, caressing the little sad, worn-looking 
face. 

" Something that happened last winter that 
I did not tell about, ma’am.” 

"Not your mother, dear ?” 

" No, ma’am ; I did not tell mother, because 
I thought she would not let me go to parties 
any more, and besides, she would have found 
out who frightened me, and made a time, 
and—” 

Mrs. Cheston waited in silence; she felt 


100 


FERNWOOD. 


satisfied her conjecture had been the right one, 
but whether she ought to win the secret 
from the child, while her own mother was 
kept in ignorance, she could not decide at 
once. 

Caroline -slept again, under the effect of the 
composing draught and in the stillness of the 
room. After about two hours’ rest she awoke 
much better and without fever. 

Hattie had returned in the mean time with 
Mr. Cheston, but was requested not to come 
near her little friend for the present. 

I feel much better now, Mrs. Cheston,” 
said Caroline ; ‘‘ I’m so very much obliged to 
you for taking care of me. I’ve been wanting 
to come to this sweet, quiet place ever since 
the first time I saw it, you are so kind to 
me.” 

“ Do you think so, my child ? I love chil- 
dren very much, and they generally love me, 
I find. But now you are ready for some light 
nourishment, and Myrtle is only waiting for 
you to wake up to bring it to you.” 

Caroline sat up on the sofa, while Myrtle 
brought the delicate chicken broth she had 
made, and was delighted to find how much it 
was relished. 


FERNWOOD. 


101 


That child wants looking after, mistress,” 
was her remark afterward. “ They think so 
much of fashion and gayety where she’s been 
living that they’ve pretty near left the life 
slip out of her, poor little thing !” 

“ She seems to me a good deal the worse for 
her winter of excitement,” said Mrs. Cheston, 
and then she got her knitting and took her 
seat again by the sofa, saying but little, yet 
by her cheerful, serene expression giving 
Caroline a pleasant sensation of being taken 
care of and watched over kindly. 

The little girl lay for some time with her 
eyes, closed, until, at length, her friend noticed 
that she put up her handkerchief to wipe away 
the quiet tears as they stole from under the 
lids. 

My little patient ought to be smiling now, 
instead of weeping,” said Mrs. Cheston, bend- 
ing over to kiss the beautiful face, for Caroline 
was a remarkably pretty child. 

'' Oh, Mrs. Cheston, please forgive me ! I 
don’t want to cry, but I can’t help it. You 
don’t know how different your home is from 
what I have been used to all winter, and all my 
life ; it is so sweet, so good, somehow. I feel 
safe here ; nobody could frighten me here.” 


102 


FEENWOOD. 


“ Has something distressed you, Caroline, 
that you cannot forget? If you would tell 
your mother, she would probably feel sorry, 
and help you to get over it.” 

Caroline lay thinking a little while longer, 
and then said, 

It seems such a foolish thing to be fright- 
ened at, but will you laugh at me, Mrs. Ches- 
ton, if I tell you?” 

“ Laugh at you, dear ? Certainly not. If it 
will make you feel better to talk about it, I 
will listen, and perhaps I can help you to for- 
get the trouble, whatever it was.” 

‘‘ Then I will tell you. I was at a party 
near the end of the winter, and a little girl 
got vexed with me because I danced with 
somebody that she had wanted to dance with. 
Never mind about that, only she told me she 
would be revenged on me for taking her part- 
ner ; she got her brother to help her. When 
we were going home, I happened to be the last 
one to leave the dressing-room; just’ as I had 
gone out into the entry, where it was rather 
dark, this brother of hers jumped out from 
the boys’ dressing-room opposite with a skull 
in his hands — an awful skull with two lights 
behind the eyes. He held it up before my 


FERNWOOD. 


103 


face, and I screamed, for I was so scared I did 
not know what to do." 

Poor child 1" said Mrs. Cheston ; I don’t 
wonder you were startled. Did no one come 
to you ?’’ 

The boy scolded me for making a noise, 
and then ran olF as hard as he could, for fear 
of being found out, and I was afraid to say 
anything ; the girl who had been waiting on 
us came to see what was the matter, and I 
did not dare to tell her. She bathed my face, 
and said I looked white, but she did not know 
the reason, for it was all done in a minute. 
Was I foolish to get frightened at a skull, 
Mrs. Cheston ? It looked very dreadful." 

You could not help it, my dear. You had 
been excited with your evening’s gayety, and 
were tired and nervous, I suppose. You would 
have been better off in bed and asleep at 
twelve o’clock, my dear child, with peaceful 
dreams. And not yet eleven years old!" 
Mrs. Cheston added in her thoughts. 

wish I could forget that night," said 
poor little Caroline. “ But the moment I am 
left to myself at night I see that skull grin- 
ning at me everywhere. I was always afraid 
of such things." 


104 


FERNWOOD. 


But where did the boy get it from V said 
Mrs. Cheston. 

Out of the office down stairs, ma’am ; his 
father was a physician,” replied Caroline. 

“You would have got over it better if you 
had frankly told your mother the next day, 
my child, even if she had ‘ made a time,’ as 
you say, and it would have been much better 
if you had not gone to any more evening par- 
ties, but your nervous system had rest af- 
terward. I hope it is not too late yet. I will 
do all I can for you while you are in this 
neighbourhood, and fresh country air will be 
a good medicine. Try not to think about it, 
dear ; you are sick, independent of this fright, 
though that has had a great deal to do in 
bringing you to such a weak condition.” 

Just then Myrtle came to speak to her mis- 
tress. 

“ Would you like to see Hattie now, dear ? 
or do you not feel well enough ?” 

“ I would like to see her, ma’am.” 

• “ Then tell her she may come in. Myrtle.” 

Hattie had provided herself with a bunch 
of lovely flowers, which gratified her friend, 
and then she told her all the little incidents 
of her ride, together with the message sent by 


FERNWOOD. 


105 


her aunt that she was to remain until her un- 
cle came for her in the evening. Pleasant 
conversation drove away the painful subject 
of Caroline s thoughts, and in the evening she 
was able to join the family at the tea-table, 
and enjoyed the meal. 

When Dr. White came in his gig to take 
her home, Mrs. Cheston, who knew him 
well, took him into the library and held a 
serious conversation with him. She told him 
of Caroline s nervous condition, arising from 
a fright in the winter, and the doctor seemed 
quite relieved to hear of it. 

thought,” he said, ‘‘there was something 
more connected with her ill-health than I have 
been informed of, for there is but little actual 
disease ; the child has a very excitable nervous 
temperament, and is just such a child as 
should have been kept free from any mental 
disturbance; early hours and quiet living 
were needful in her case. I will take her out 
with me in my rides round the country, and 
let her have fresh air and change of scene.” 

“Perhaps it would be better,” said Mrs. 
Cheston, “if. she were to have a young com- 
panion staying with her for a while, that she 
might not be alone at night.” 


106 


FERNWOOD. 


That is true,” said Dr. White. “ I will 
send for a little niece of inine who will be 
safe and good company for her, and who will 
be glad to leave the city in the hot weather. 
We get a little selfish as we grow older, Mrs. 
Cheston, and like the quiet of our own homes 
so well that we forget to invite young persons 
to gather round us and enjoy the same pure 
air and peaceful domestic pleasures.” 

But we must not grow selfish,” said his 
old friend, smiling in her benevolent way. 

‘‘ Ah ! I should not include you when I use 
that term, but I fear we are not all so mindful 
of the needs of those around us as you and 
your excellent husband are known to be,” said 
Dr. White, sincerely. 

^‘If I have called your attention to the 
wants of this poor little fashionable child be- 
fore it is too late, doctor, I shall feel very 
glad,” said Mrs. Cheston. “ It is time enough 
to begin our struggle with the pomps and 
vanities of this wicked world when we are 
old enough to know something about their 
danger, but to see a child like this steering 
her own way amid such scenes is - to me pain- 
ful and startling.” 

Times are greaily changed since we were 


FEKNWOOD. 


107 


young,” said the doctor (his present wife was 
much younger than himself). “ I confess I am 
a good deal surprised myself when Mrs. White 
reads me some of the letters she receives from 
her relations in the city; they keep it up 
there. But, really, I must be getting home. 
Come, Carrie, child, are you ready to start ?” 

Very much better, both in body and mind, 
than when she came in the morning, Caroline 
kissed her kind friends good-bye, and was 
seated in the gig beside her uncle for her ride 
home. Mrs. Cheston had done one of her 
many unobtrusive deeds of charity that day 
in opening the mystery that had seemed to 
attend Caroline s ill-health ; from that time her 
case received such treatment as it demanded. 


CHAPTER XIII. 


LETTER came from Hattie’s mother 
which turned the tide of affairs quite 
materially. The child had been kept 
in a state of rather uncomfortable 
suspense in regard to her teacher’s 
return, and her own, as a consequence ; almost 
every morning when she gathered her break- 
fast flowers she said, as she placed them on 
the table, 

‘‘ There, grandma ! make much of them, for 
maybe you’ll have no little girl to gather 
them to-morrow.” 

She was in constant expectation that her 
visit would end, and though still ambitious 
about her place in the classes and interested 
in her school, she did greatly desire to stay a 
little longer where she was so entirely happy : 
and this was natural. She thought also that 
her presence was in some way — she could not 
understand why — a comfort to her grand- 
mother. Through the day, when her attention 
108 



FERNWOOD. 


109 


was constantly occupied in some other way, 
the subject of being called back to school did 
not disturb her so much. 

Well, she received the letter. All the 
while she was reading it grandma was observ- 
ing the changing colour and delighted ex- 
pression; she also had been written to and 
requested to report what the effect of the let- 
ter was on Hattie. 

Well, dear?” grandma said, at last. 

I don't know what to say first, grandma,” 
exclaimed Hattie, ‘‘ I want to say so much. 
Do you want me to stay any longer ?” 

Begin at the beginning, little chick,” said 
grandpa ; ‘‘ what does the letter say ?” 

^^Oh, it says such a nice thing, grandpa! 
My teacher is not coming back this summer, 
and there will be no more school I” 

So you call that very nice, do you ?” 

Oh, for one reason, grandpa.” 

And what may that reason be ? When a 
little girl is just getting on smoothly with her 
grammar, geography, and so on, it ought to 
be for a good reason when she likes being 
stopped short ofi* and left in ignorance.” 

“Grandpa, I believe you are just teasing 
me, and that you know all about it,” said 
10 


110 


FERNWOOD. 


Hattie, kissing him; ^Hhe reason is that if 
there is no school, I may stay here the whole 
summer, and I need not feel as if I was being 
idle on purpose.” 

“ Ah ! now I begin to understand. But you 
are quite sure we would like to keep you ?” 

That is what I want grandma to tell me,” 
said Hattie, putting her arms round the old 
lady’s neck. -• 

Grandma drew her down on her lap and 
kissed her. ^Ht is a shame,” she said, “to 
keep you in suspense another moment, dar- 
ling. I have had a letter too, and I think I 
can make your mother’s mind entirely easy 
about your being glad to stay with us all sum- 
mer; she knows how very much we love to 
keep you.” 

“It is very important that you should go 
on with your riding lessons, Hattie,” said Mr. 
Cheston ; “we shall have to put up with your 
company for the sake of your learning to ride.” 

“Ah, grandpa!” said Hattie, laughing; “if 
you did not want me to stay, you would not 
mind about my riding lessons ; but indeed I 
will try to be just as good as I can be. I am 
so glad mother gives me leave to stay, and you 
will let me.” 


FERNWOOD. 


Ill 


Come here and give me a kiss, then," said 
grandpa ; ‘‘we will take a good long ride some 
day soon, you and I : there are some things I 
want to show you away off in the Pines ; and 
I think the air up there will do you a great 
deal of good.” 

“ Grandpa, do you think Caroline could go, 
too, on her little Jenny ?” 

“ We’ll see ; she’ll have to be stronger than 
she is now before she can go so far. But she 
shall not be forgotten, my child ; we’ll attend 
to her,” replied Mr. Cheston. 

“ Oh, there comes Euth !” exclaimed Hattie, 
and jumping down from her grandpa’s knee, 
she ran out to the head of the lane to meet 
her and bring her in. 

Such a dear, gentle, thoughtful-looking 
child as Euth was ! Her years had not yet 
come up to the mature expression on her face ; 
she might have passed for fourteen years old, 
yet she was only ten, — ^very near the age of 
Hattie. 

She made her polite little curtsey when she 
entered the room, and went up to Mrs. Ches- 
ton. 

“ My mother told me to bring this loaf of 
milk bread, Mrs. Cheston,” she said, “and 


112 


FERNWOOD. 


ask if you would please accept it, with her 
best respects.” 

“1 will accept it very gladly, my dear,” 
replied Mrs. Clieston, cordially, “ and I am 
much obliged to your mother for remember- 
ing my liking for this kind of bread, and for 
remembering me.” 

How could she help . remembering you, 
Mrs. Cheston, when you have been so good to 
her through her sickness?” said the little girl. 

Oh, never mind that, my dear. But tell 
me, Euth, — has your mother become strong 
enough to make bread ? I had no idea she 
was gaining so fast.” 

Euth smiled, but looked a little afraid that 
the bread would lose its value if she told the 
truth about it; she answered, however, with 
simplicity. 

Mother is not strong enough yet, ma’am, 
to do it, but I have been making it for a good 
many weeks now, and mother thought this 
was the best I had ever made, and she told me 
I might bring a loaf to you, to reward me.” 

“Why, Euth Foster,” exclaimed Hattie, 
“did you really make this beautiful white 
bread all by yourself? It smells as sweet and 
nice as if it was cake.” 


FERNWOOD. 


113 


is not much trouble to make bread,” 
said Euth. Mother taught me how to make 
yeast, and when I have good yeast, I just set 
the sponge over-night, and make up the bread 
early next morning.” ^ 

‘‘ That sounds all very simple,” said Mrs. 
Cheston, “ and as if anybody could make good 
bread, but yet everybody cannot, or does not, 
do it ; there is much judgment required about 
the degree of lightness before it is made up 
and put into the pans for baking.” 

Mother used to look at it, at first, and 
give me her directions, but I have learned to 
manage it now for myself, and the baking too. 
When she was so sick, I did not like to trouble 
her, so I tried very hard to learn the way my- 
self,” said Euth. 

“No wonder the child has such an old look 
on her face,” thought grandpa. 

“ Now, little housekeeper,” said Mrs. Ches- 
ton, “ cannot you lay off your sun-bonnet and 
spend the rest of the day with Hattie ?” 

“ Thank you, ma’am ; I should like to do it 
very much, but mother told me she could only 
spare me an hour this time.” 

“ Then we must try and fix some day before 
long for a visit from you; your mother is 
10 « H 


114 • 


FERNWOOD. 


really getting better now, I think ; she will 
soon be able to give you more time for play,” 
said Mrs. Cheston. 

“I am so happy doing my work about the 
house and taking care of the little children 
that I don’t seem to think much about playing, 
except to amuse them; we have lovely times 
together about sundown, when supper is over 
and the work is done. Mother is so cheerful 
now; she plays with us sometimes.” 

Plays with you ?” said Hattie, surprised ; 
‘'why, I thought she was confined to her 
bed?” 

“So she is,” said Euth; “I didn’t mean 
that she plays blindman’s buff, or tag, or any- 
thing like that, but she gives us riddles to 
guess and puzzles to find out; we call it 
play.” 

“ Your mother has borne her trouble very 
patiently,” said Mrs. Cheston; “some mothers 
would have fretted themselves into still greater 
illness if they had been laid aside, as she has 
been, with a young family to see after ; but the 
secret of it all is, she is a true Christian. She 
does not repine or murmur, because she knows 
that God has given her the best of all gifts, 
— the gift of his own dear Son, and if he 


FERNWOOD. 


115 


sees it to be best for ber, he can make her 
well again.” 

“ Mother loves to read the Bible,” said Enth, 
“and she has us all by her bedside every 
night, and says a prayer for us after she has 
heard us say ours.” 

“That is very pleasant for you all,” said 
grandma; “how thankful you ought to be 
for such a good mother !” 

“Indeed we are thankful, ma’am; we are 
so anxious to get her well again, and to have 
her about the house everywhere. But, Mrs. 
Cheston, is my hour gone ? I think I ought 
to go back now.” 

“You will have time to go to the garden 
first, my dear, and Hattie will gather some 
of her prettiest flowers for you to take home 
to your mother.” 

So the two little girls went out to gather 
the sweet damask roses for Mrs. Foster, and 
after that Euth went home, much delighted 
with her visit and desiring to know more of 
Hattie. 


CHAPTER XIV. 

HE weather had been generally clear 
and pleasant since Hattie had been a 
guest at F ernwood. But one day there 
came an easterly storm, which, al- 
though it was in the month of July, 
proved very chilly and disagreeable. Hattie 
came down stairs to breakfast a little late, the 
morning was so dark ; but everybody was late. 

Grandpa came in presently, after having 
taken off his wet cloak in the kitchen. 

“Well, Hattie,” he said, “you ought to be 
glad you’re not a cow this rainy morning.” 

The child laughed : “Why, grandpa?” 

“ I have just had quite a busy time getting 
the animals put under shelter ; the storm came 
up early this morning, and they were all out 
of doors, so you may imagine they got wet- 
ter than they wanted to be before they were 
driven into the cattle-sheds.” 

“ They are under shelter now ?” asked 
grandma. 

116 



FEENWOOD. 


117 


“ Oil yes. Benny and I attended to them ; 
George had his hands full with the sheep. 
However, now I know they are all right, I can 
enjoy my breakfast.” 

As soon as breakfast and prayers were over, 
Mr. Cheston was off again with his cloak and 
umbrella ; he liked to see to everything him- 
self, and being a very active man and in ex- 
cellent health, it was natural that he should. 
Hattie helped her grandmother, as usual, in 
washing up the china and silver, looking for- 
ward in her thoughts to the long wet day, in 
which nothing could happen that would spe- 
cially interest her. 

“ Do you feel strong and well this morning, 
my dear?” Mrs. Cheston said, presently, as 
she was putting away the last of the cups and 
saucers. 

Oh yes, grandma ; I feel perfectly well. 
I slept like a top last night.” 

“ Then I think I’ll get you to help me this 
rainy morning to polish up the spare silver in 
the closet ; would you mind doing it ?” 

‘‘ No, ma’am ; I would be glad to do it. I 
was wondering what I should do for you when 
the cups and dishes were all washed and put 
away.” 


118 


FEENWOOD. 


^‘It is a way of mine,” said grandma, 
do up odd jobs and things that are of no par- 
ticular importance, if any other duties are 
pressing, on rainy days, and I generally try 
to get the silver cleaned at such times ; you 
know it will get tarnished standing in the 
closet.” 

When grandma was ready, Hattie brought 
out the large coffee-pot and several other 
pieces of plate, and began to help as she was 
directed. 

The coffee-pot attracted her attention, and 
of course she had to ask questions about it. 
It was very tall and richly embossed, but en- 
tirely unlike any silver of modern times. Its 
history dated back several generations before 
Mrs. Cheston, and it was believed to have 
come from England with the first of the fam- 
ily who settled at the old place. 

Hattie became greatly interested in making 
it shine, and then turned her attention to 
other pieces, listening with much delight to 
little family anecdotes connected with some 
of them. A silver cup given to the old lady 
herself when she was a baby, with the initials 
of the giver’s name on it, pleased the child 
greatly. 


FEKNWOOD. 


119 


^‘To think that you were ever a baby, 
grandma!” she exclaimed, merrily. 

Yes, dear, it seems strange enough now, 
but I hope I may be taken home before there 
is any danger of my becoming one the second 
time, or, in other words, growing childish ; I 
would rather die, if it is my Father’s will, 
while my faculties are sound.” 

Oh, grandma,” said Hattie, “ don’t let us 
talk about anything so mournful.” 

If you live to be as old as I am, dear, you 
will find the subject very often in your 
thoughts. I am getting nearer and nearer 
to the end of my pilgrimage, but I am not 
unhappy about it. Beyond this earthly home 
which I enjoy so much ‘ there is a land of 
pure delight’ — you know the hymn, Hattie; 
that is a land I think of very often.” 

Hattie felt too deeply to talk with her 
grandmother on this subject, so she said noth- 
ing in reply, but went on with her work, 
thinking how she could make her dear grand- 
ma talk of cheerful things. Myrtle, coming 
in just then with some more hot water, ob- 
served the serious expression on her face. 

'^We can’t get down to the spring-house 
this morning, you and me — too rainy; George 


120 


FEENWOOD. 


has to bring up the things. Never mind; 
missy shall have ’something good for dessert 
to-day, if it is rainy.” 

I don’t mind the weather now, Myrtle,” 
replied Hattie. “ I did when I first got up, 
but I have plenty of work, and that keeps me 
from thinking about it.” 

When Myrtle had gone, Hattie said. 

Grandma, you began to tell me, one day, 
how it was mother learned to be a good house- 
keeper, and something stopped us ; won’t you 
tell me now ?” 

It was the first day you came, wasn’t it ?” 

^‘Yes, ma’am, and you said she was very 
fond of reading.” 

“ It is a long story; are you sure you would 
like to hear it all through ?” 

“ I should like to hear it, if it will not tire 
you to tell me, grandma.” 

I think you wanted to know what it was 
that influenced -your mother to give up her 
former habits and attend to household duties, 
and as I remember well how it was brought 
about. I’ll tell you the story. If you get 
tired of listening, you must tell me.” 

“No danger, grandma; please begin,” Hat- 
tie said as she rubbed away at the silver. 


CHAPTER XIV. 


OUR mother continued, even after school- 
days,, to be so much taken up with 
reading and writing — for she was fond 
of writing verses too — that I began to 
despair of making anything of her but 
a regular blue-stocking. I was disappointed, 
I must own, because housekeeping was con- 
sidered a most important and lady-like branch 
of learning in my day, and I desired to bring 
up my daughter in the same way my mother 
had brought me up. Now and then some lit- 
tle incident would arise leading your mother 
to see that she had really tried me too far, 
and then she would turn over quite a new 
leaf, and be wonderfully attentive for a week 
or two, or at any rate until the next new book 
came into the house. But the occasion on 
which she was so much mortified that she im- 
proved for good and all was this that I am 
going to tell you. 

We were to have some friends to dinner: 



11 


121 


122 


FERNWOOD. 


they were very dear friends as well as rela- 
tions of mine, and I desired to spend as much 
of my time as possible in the parlour. At the 
same time, I wanted to entertain them well at 
the dinner-table. I had a poor servant in the 
kitchen, which made it all the worse. We 
were living in the city then, your grandpa 
and I. I felt no fear of not being able to 
please my cousins, who were a little particular 
about their eating, if I could only attend to 
both places at once, parlour and kitchen. 
‘Now,’ I thought to myself, ‘111 find out 
what value there is in all that I have taught 
Lizzie. I think if she chooses she can re- 
lieve me of much care to-day.’ So very 
early in the morning, remembering a fondness 
these cousins had in our young days for my 
chicken pies, made after the rule of a cele- 
brated pastry-cook who taught a class of 
young ladies herself, I hastened my work in 
order to make one of these pies. 

“I succeeded to my own satisfaction, and in- 
tended telling them that the pie contained sen- 
timent as well as chicken, being a remem- 
brance of our youthful achievements at the 
pastry-cook’s school, which we had all attended 
together.” 


FERNWOOD. 


123 


Yes, grandma, and there was a tulip in 
the top of the pie. I know about those pies ; 
mother always makes a tulip, too, out of puff- 
paste." 

“ I warrant her," said the old lady, laugh- 
ing, but I should think she could hardly do 
it yet without being reminded of that day in 
particular." • 

Did anything happen, grandma ?" 

“ I will tell you, my dear — not to make you 
reflect on your dear mother, but just as a sort 
of beacon for your own guidance in such mat- 
ters. My cousins — three of them — came early 
to spend a long day with me ; they were from 
the country, and were visiting in the city. I 
was delighted, and after I had settled them 
comfortably in the parlour with their work, 
I hastened to the kitchen and gave the neces- 
sary directions as to the dinner to the servant, 
who I knew would do her best ; but I could 
not trust her to bake my pie, so I called Liz- 
zie. I heard her book go down on the sofa in 
the dining-room when she jumped up to come 
to me. This rather worried me, because I re- 
membered that the ‘ Scottish Chiefs ' was then 
her absorbing delight, and ‘Wallace ’ was hard 
to leave. 


124 


FERNWOOD. 


Well, she came down, poor child ! looking 
not any too anxious to put herself in the 
kitchen. 

“‘Lizzie,’ I said, ‘my cousins have come, 
and I want to sit with them as much as I can. 
I would be particularly obliged to you, dear, 
as you are not so anxious to be with them as 
I am, if you will take my place f©r a while in 
attending to the oven.’ 

“ ‘ What is it, mother, that is to be baked ?’ 
Lizzie said. 

“ ‘ I have made a nice chicken-pie,’ I said, 
‘ and the oven is exactly right for it now ; will 
you see that the fire does not get too hot, or 
that Mary does not put more wood in just at 
the wrong time ?’ 

“ ‘ To be sure, I will, mother,’ she answered 
me, very bright and cheerful ; ‘ is that all ? I 
expected you would want me to do fifty things 
to-day for these remarkable visitors.’ 

“ I did not quite fancy the way she spoke of 
my favourite cousins : they were very dear to 
me, through a lifelong association of tastes 
•and habits ; however, I remembered she was 
young and thoughtless, and I got over this lit- 
tle speech.” 

“Dear grandma!” thought Hattie; “I 


FERNWOOD. 


125 


wonder what there is she wouldn’t forgive 
and get over?” 

‘‘ I replied, ‘ Well, my dear, there were many 
things I would have been glad to have you 
take off my hands, but I knew you were en- 
grossed with your new book, so I got up early 
and did a good deal, and now I have nothing 
to make me nineasy except the baking of this 
pie. Mary has some beefsteaks to broil, but 
those she understands.’ I little thought, when 
I said this, what a favour it was that Mary 
did understand that much toward making out 
the dinner.” 

‘‘Why, grandma, surely nothing happened 
after mother promised she would do what you 
wanted her to ?” and Hattie looked as if she 
thought there must be a mistake somewhere ; 
but revering both her mother and grand- 
mother, she could not imagine where the mis- 
take lay. 

Again Mrs. Cheston said: “Do not think 
of this little incident in the way of blaming 
your mother, Hattie; she was very young, 
and so fond of reading. However — I don’t seem 
to get on with my story at all, somehow — I 
gave Lizzie a kiss for her good-nature and 
good intentions, and wiped my red face after 


126 


FERNWOOD. 


fussing over the oven, and went into the 
parlour again. I almost skipped in, I might 
say, for I was not very old then, and when I 
was in the company of persons whom I sin- 
cerely loved and trusted, I gave myself up 
to them with a sort of enthusiasm. We had 
so much to talk about we did not know what 
subject to choose first. Polly, the eldest, said, 
^ I feel more like talking over our old happy 
days at Englewood than anything else.’ 

Englewood had been their maiden home, 
where I had spent many and many a week on 
visits to them. I should think they could 
scarcely have been more attached to it than 
I was. I must tell you about that dear old 
place some other time, if you will remind me.” 

“ I will remind you, grandma, never fear. 
But please go on about that day ; what did 
mother do ?” 

“ I was sitting in the parlour, happy as a 
queen, talking and listening, determined to 
shake oif any feeling of anxiety about dinner. 

Lizzie had spoken to my cousins for a few 
minutes, so that I knew she had not been neg- 
ligent toward them ; altogether, I was quite at 
my ease. Once, in the course of the morning, 
when I handed a basket of my very best cake 


FERNWOOD. 


127 


witli lemonade, I made •some remark about 
spoiling their appetites, and then Cousin Patty 
said, 

“ ' Now, Maria, I just want to say one thing 
to you, dear : don’t take any pains to get 
things for our dinner to-day at all extra; 
we’ll take whatever you happen to have in the 
house, if it’s nothing but bread and butter 
and a cup of tea. We want your company, 
cousin, and never mind about good eating to- 
day.’ 

‘ Oh,’ I answered, ^ you need not be un- 
easy,’ thinking of the pleasant surprise in 
store for them, and the ^sentiment.’ ^ I shall 
not take the least trouble ; what little I have 
got ready for you can be taken care of by 
Lizzie just as well as myself, and I am going 
to stay and enjoy your society all the time. 
You know we live very plainly, and people 
who come to see us must have some other 
motive than to get niceties.’ 

Now, Hattie, this was my conceit and pride. 
I knew I was considered to keep a particu- 
larly good table, and that some of my friends 
praised me very much for it. I cared for the 
reputation chiefly for the sake of my husband ; 
when he praised my doings in that line, I felt 


128 


FERNWOOD. 


gratified. But I was not talking honestly all 
this time, and, what was more, I despised my- 
self for it. Did you ever think, my dear, how 
it would sound if two voices could be heard 
coming out of our lips at the same time ?” 

“No, grandma ; how do you mean ?’' 

“This way for instance, darling. One 
voice : ^ Grood-morning, Mrs. Jones. I am 
delighted to see you coming in sociably with- 
out ringing, it seems so neighbourly.’ 

“ Another voice : ^Good-morning, Mrs. Jones. 
I should think you might know better than to 
intrude on me so early without ringing the 
bell, and find me in this old dress sweeping 
the room.’ 

“ Or this way : ^ Certainly, Mrs. Smith ; I 
can lend you that book now you were asking 
for : it has just come home. You are very wel- 
come to it, and I’m sorry it was lent when 
you first asked for it.’ 

“ Another voice : ^ Mrs. Smith, you can 
afford to buy all the books you care to read. 
I wish you had not asked for this, for I know 
your children will tear half the leaves out be- 
fore I see it again.’ ” 

“Is there so much deceit in the world, 
grandma?” Hattie said,* a little sadly. “It 


FERNWOOD. 


129 


seems to me I shall never know when to trust 
people who tell me things.” 

^‘You will find as you grow older, dear, 
who is to be trusted and who is not ; some- 
times it takes a long Hfetime to find out the 
many turns and windings of a deceitful hu- 
man heart. Young persons, when they have 
once been mistaken in their confidence, are 
apt to go to the extreme of doubting, and 
never allow themselves to believe in anybody 
again, but that is wrong, Hattie. You must 
put confidence in some one ; if you could not 
trust your mother and father, for instance, 
what would become of you, dear child ?” 

“ And if I did not trust you, dear grandma, 
too ; everybody trusts yott, though.” 

I am in the habit of speaking my mind 
out pretty plainly, my dear. I don’t like false 
words of any kind, not even the polite false- 
hoods of every-day use. I can sometimes 
hardly be civil, because I am afraid of tum- 
bling over a ^fib,’ as they call it. I call it a 
lie. The Lord despises and abhors lying lips, 
my child, and when we try to please him in 
our daily life, we cannot practice deceit.” 

“ That’s the way it seems to me, grandma,” 
said Hattie. I do not want to say things 

I 


130 


FEENWOOD. 


that are not true, but don’t you think it is 
very hard to keep from it, sometimes ?” 

I know the temptation is very great, fre- 
quently, to say words out of politeness that 
are not sincerely true, but we ought always 
to endeavour to be both polite and truthful as 
far as possible, and if either must be sacrificed, 
let it be politeness, not truth.” 

^‘Grandma,” said Hattie, with a merry 
laugh, what is the reason we seem to get no 
farther on about the day you had your cous- 
ins to dinner ?” 

‘‘Don’t you know, my dear,” said Mrs. 
Cheston, laughing in her turn, “that old 
women are wonderfully fond of rambling on 
in their talk, and w'andering away from the 
subject they begin with ? 

“Now I’ll try and finish, for it’s getting to- 
ward noon, and your grandpa will be coming 
home presently. Time flew by very rapidly 
that morning, we had so much to say to each 
other ; and before I thought of its being two 
o’clock, I heard my husband’s latch-key in the 
front door. I was just jumping up to go and 
see if everything was in order for dinner, 
when I remembered that for this day I was 
absolved from care. Lizzie had engaged to 


FERNWOOD. 


131 


see that another leaf was added to the table 
and a fine table-cloth put on, and all the small 
matters that my housekeeping pride had sug- 
gested. It added greatly to my self-import- 
ance to let my cousins see how much confi- 
dence I could place in my young daughter, 
for they already knew just what sort of cook 
I had in the kitchen, and that, if it had not 
been for Lizzie, I could not have spent such a 
leisurely morning with them. 

After my husband had greeted our friends 
with his usual cordial manner, he turned to 
me and said, 

^^^Do you know, Maria, that 'it is almost 
three o’clock ? I was detained by a gentle- 
man on business, and I had hoped you would 
not wait for me.’ 

^^Now, two o’clock was our dinner-hour. At 
that, Hattie, my heart began to beat a little 
anxiously, and I made a quick escape from the 
room. The dining-room was up stairs. I 
went there first, thinking to find Lizzie tired 
out and impatient about being kept so long on 
the watch. 

The ^ Scottish Chiefs ’ again went down on 
the sofa, this time with a bang, and Lizzie 
sprang up at the opening of the door. 


132 


FERNWOOD. 


^ What is the matter, my child ?’ I asked, 
for she looked bewildered. ^Father has only 
just come in, and I had no idea it was so late. 
Is the pie nicely baked, Lizzie?’ 

“ ^ What pie, mother?’ she said. 

“ ^ I asked you, Lizzie, to relieve me from 
care to-day, and to attend to the oven for me ; 
have you not done so ?’ 

“‘Oh, mother, mother!’ she cried; ‘what 
will you say to me? I forgot the baking 
entirely !’ 

“ ‘Lizzie,’ I said, trying to command myself, 
‘ you don’t mean to tell me that this book has 
so completely absorbed you that all my re- 
quests have passed out of your memory ? and 
yet I see that you have not got out the right 
table-cloth, and everything on the table is just 
as Mary puts it every day. Well, I’ll go into 
the kitchen and see what else is in store for 
me.’ ” 

“Poor dear grandma!” said Hattie, ten- 
derly, as if it was that very day things were 
going so adverse ; “ I do hope everything was 
not ruined ?” 

“Now, Hattie dear, understand. I am not 
making a serious matter of all this merely 
because of the mortification to my own pride. 


FERNWOOD. 


133 


but because I want to tell you bow it affected 
my daughter, and also because I do want you 
to see, before you become too old to profit by 
it, how important it is for young girls to grow 
up with an interest in learning to manage a 
house in all respects. It seems to me that in 
these days it is considered of no consequence 
if a girl knows nothing whatever of house- 
keeping when she gets married. We no longer 
have servants who know their places and take 
pride in keeping them through good behav- 
iour; it is therefore all the more necessary 
that the mistress should know enough to in- 
struct her servants, and sometimes to put her 
own hand to the work when she is suddenly 
left with no servant at all.” 

^^Well, grandma,” said Hattie, earnestly, 
how did it all end ? I should think mother 
would just have gone up to her room and 
cried like everything.” 

The next thing I did, my dear, was done 
too hastily ; before I went into the kitchen, 
even, I sent for my husband to come to me, 
and poured out my troubles about the ruined 
dinner. 

' Are you sure there is nothing left, 
Maria?’ he asked. ‘1 have no doubt there 


12 


134 


FERNWOOD. 


will be something saved from the wreck, but, 
at any rate, I can give you some little comfort, 
I think, unless — ’ 

“ ‘ How do you mean, dear T I asked ; ^ you 
did not arrange anything before you went 
out?’ 

^ No, but I knew you made a great festival 
of having these cousins to visit you, so I 
thought I would contribute a rarity to the 
dinner which I remembered they could not 
easily procure where they live. I stopped as I 
went down this morning at Jemmy Parsons’s 
oyster establishment, and ordered a pair of 
canvas-back ducks, cooked in his best style, 
and sent up a little after two. Did they 
come?’ ” 

‘‘Oh how kind that was !” exclaimed Hat- 
tie ; “ weren’t you glad, grandma ?” 

“ Glad ! indeed I was, and grateful, too. 
Then I went to the kitchen ; the pie, of course, 
was burnt and dried up : Mary had managed 
the other things pretty well ; but there were 
the ducks, all right, in the heating apparatus 
they came in.” 

“Then you had a nice dinner, after all, 
grandma?” said Hattie. 

“Thanks to my dear husband, I had, my 


FEENWOOD. 


135 


dear, and the dessert was all I meant it to be, 
but my vanity received a severe blow that 
day, for instead of boasting in a quiet way, 
as I had expected to do, of the skill of my 
daughter and her excellent management, I 
had to apologize for the common though clean 
table linen, the ordinary service of china and 
cutlery, and everything else that made it ap- 
pear as if I did not think such guests worth 
taking any trouble about." 

^^And your little speech about the senti- 
ment in the chicken-pie, grandma; what a 
pity you could not make that !" 

I was a good deal cut down, Hattie, just 
by that very thing, though my cousins kindly 
said they would take the will for the deed. 
But my poor heart was too much filled with 
conceit and self-complacency at that time. 
The pride I indulged in because I was able to 
furnish my parlour and dining-room in a style 
rather beyond most of my friends, and because 
I could open the doors of my pantry and 
china closet to show the treasures they con- 
tained, was sinful as well as foolish. That 
pride afterward had a fall." 

Did my dear mother try after that not to 
read so much, grandma ?" 


136 


FERNWOOD. 


That was the turning-point, my dear, — the 
end of my story that I have been aiming at. 
She learned from that day to control her love 
for reading and keep it within bounds. She 
never afterward gave me cause to regret that 
I had placed important household matters in 
her charge, and judging from the condition 
I always find her house in when I visit her, 1 
think I may safely say that she grew up an 
accomplished housekeeper. 

“ To earn that title requires some sacrifice 
of time and of taste, frequently, but if con- 
science is made to support us in the perform- 
ance of its various duties, there is no reason 
to consider the calling an unpleasant one ; and 
the amount of comfort that women have it in 
their power to bestow on husbands, sons, and 
brothers by taking some pains in domestic 
matters ought to give them motive for exer- 
tion.” 

Grandma,” said Hattie, after sitting qui- 
etly thinking for a few minutes, ^^what be- 
came of ^ The Scottish Chiefs ’ ?” 

“ The book came very near being banished 
to the garret forthwith, my dear. Your moth- 
er felt so disgusted with herself that she 
blamed the interesting story rather unjustly, 


FERNWOOD. 


137 


for at the time of its first appearance agree- 
able works of fiction were not so plentiful as 
they are now, and this story was considered 
quite remarkable." 

Then she did not send it away ?" 

No ; I told her that, having gone so far 
through the book, she might as well finish it, 
if she would read it in leisure moments. She 
did so, but felt far less anxiety as to the fate 
of the Scottish hero than she did at the be- 
ginning, when she allowed herself to be un- 
wisely absorbed by him.” 

Grandma, you remember I told you that 
mother ofiered to take me to the menagerie 
on my birth-day instead of coming here ?” 

Yes, dear, I remember, and how pleased 
I was with you for preferring Fernwood.” 

“ Well, I would rather have heard you tell 
me this little story about mother than to have 
seen the biggest lion there was there, and to 
have had a ride on the elephant besides,” 
Hattie said, with great emphasis. 

‘‘You must tell mother so when you go 
home ; we have pleasant times together, you 
and I, and there is no better listener to my 
stories of old times than my little Hattie. 
But the rain seems to have stopped, and I 


138 


FERNWOOD. 


think I hear wheels; is grandpa coming in, 
dear?” 

Yes, ma’am ; he is driving in at the gate, 
but I don’t see any canvas-back ducks with 
him,” said Hattie, drily. 

“Oh, you little puss. I shall hear of those 
ducks sometimes after this when I don’t ex- 
pect it, but you must remember they are not 
in season now.” 


CHAPTEK XV. 

ATTIE had heard nothing more of Car- 
oline after the day she had passed at 
Mrs. Cheston’s for several days. The 
roads had been too wet after the storm 
to make driving pleasant, but on the 
first fine day after the roads dried up, Mr. 
Cheston drove out a few miles with his wife 
and Hattie, and on their return they stopped 
at Dr. White’s. 

To their surprise and sorrow, they were told 
that Caroline had been confined to her bed 
ever since her uncle brought her home that 
night. A fever had set in which they were 
afraid would become typhoid in its character. 
The child wandered very much in her mind, 
frequently referring to something painful, her 
aunt said, and shuddering at the remem- 
brance. She sometimes also mentioned the 
name of Albert as if fear were connected 
with the name. Mrs. White, in telling this 
to Mrs. Cheston^ begged her to give her any 



140 


FERNWOOD. 


information she might have that could throw 
light on this mystery. 

Mrs. Cheston hesitated a moment, but de- 
cided that Caroline s secret must be made 
known, or her health might suffer beyond 
all hope of remedy. She therefore told the 
story of the shock Caroline had received at 
the party. 

Mrs. White exclaimed: ^^Now I under- 
stand it all !” and mentioned further particu- 
lars of Caroline’s broken, incoherent talk. 

^‘Poor dear child!” she said; “no wonder 
she has been so pale and languid. This trou- 
ble has preyed upon her in the night when 
she has been alone. Dr. White has written 
to invite his little niece to keep her company, 
but I suppose the storm or something has 
prevented her from coming yet. But as to 
that wicked boy, his name shall be made 
known to my sister, for he must be found and 
punished.” 

“I agree with you,” said Mrs. Cheston; 
“he deserves punishment richly, and it is 
my belief that there are many instances where 
timid, nervous children are terrified in some 
way among themselves, and are frightened 
into keeping the matter secret afterward, just 


FERNWOOD. 


141 


as poor Caroline has been — in some cases with 
like consequences. I hope Dr. White does 
not consider her dangerously ill ?” 

At present he does not ; her worst symp- 
toms are disappearing. He has written for her 
mother to come out, however ; we hope good 
care and nursing may bring her up again. I 
am very sorry Caroline did not tell all to her 
mother at the first; her illness might have 
been prevented." 

I am truly thankful," said Mrs. Cheston, 
‘Hhat something impelled her to make it 
known to me the day she was so sick at our 
house ; perhaps another time she would have 
resisted the desire to unburden her mind." 

Caroline's mother was not the kind of pa- 
rent who would be likely to receive her child’s 
free confidence, being very much engrossed 
with the rapid changes in fashions of all sorts, 
and satisfied with providing good teachers 
and good servants to whom her children could 
be entrusted without interfering with her own 
important afiairs. 

It was thought best that Hattie should not 
see her little friend, and when she left the 
house, her feelings were very sad concerning 
her. Partly on that account, grandpa sug- 


142 


FERNWOOD. 


gested stopping at the mill. Eutli saw the 
carriage, and came running out to the road. 

''Well, my dear,” said Mrs. Cheston, "and 
how are you getting on to-day ?” 

" Oh, nicely, Mrs. Cheston ; won’t you 
please to come in and see mother ? She’s up 
and dressed and sitting in her own chair in 
the sitting-room.” 

There was a ring of gladness in the child’s 
voice that was delightful to hear. She seemed 
to have grown young again. 

They found Mrs. Foster looking bright and 
cheerful, with her knitting in her hands, that 
being the only work she was strong enough to 
accomplish. 

" I am very glad to find you so much bet- 
ter,” said Mrs. Cheston, sitting down by her. 

"You cannot think how greatly I enjoy 
coming out of my bedroom at last, even 
though I have got no farther than this. I 
think I am getting really better now, and I 
hope Euth will soon go back to her childhood 
again ; such a dear, good girl as she has 
been !” said Mrs. Foster, affectionately. 

Mrs. Cheston looked round to speak to 
Euth, but she was away off at the end of the 
garden with Hattie showing her a bird’s nest 


FERNWOOD. 


143 


in one of the currant bushes with little birds 
in it. Ruth was such an earnest, wide-awake 
sort of little girl ; she always had something 
fresh and new to talk about, or to show her 
friends, and then she was a very conscientious 
child, too; her mother’s heart rested on her 
with a feeling of comfort quite free from anx- 
iety. The little girl was seeking her Saviour 
in her youth, and she had realized the truth 
of the promise, ‘^They that seek me early 
shall find me;” her happiness was founded 
upon love to him, and therefore it could not 
be taken from her. 

When Mrs. Cheston was ready to return 
home, Hattie was hunted up, and found with 
Ruth in the mill pretty well covered with 
white dust, but it was soon shaken off. As 
they were riding home, she said. 

Grandpa, you never took me to see that 
mill; it is a delightful place.” 

I think so myself, dearie,” said the old 
gentleman. m very fond of being there ; 
it’s cool and shady.” 

^‘Hot quiet, though,” said Hattie; “but I 
do like to watch the fine white flour coming 
out, and then the smell is so clean and nice.” 

“ There are not many things that our little 


144 


FEENWOOD. 


Hattie does not find some pleasure in,” said 
grandpa, ^^and I would rather see that than 
a grumbling disposition.” 

“ Just think of anybody’s finding fault with 
anything about this dear, beautiful old Fern- 
wood,” said Hattie, ^^or thinking that Mr. 
and Mrs. Cheston were not the very nicest 
people that ever lived !” and they drove up to 
the door. 

Here’s a letter, mistress,” said Myrtle. 

Came while you were gone.” 



CHAPTER XVI. 

ATTIE found tlie evening so delight- 
ful that she could not shut herself up 
in the house just yet, but wandered 
off to the garden to live among the 
flowers until tea-time. She strayed 
among her favourite plants, carelessly forming 
a very pretty nosegay to take in with her, 
until after the sun had gone down. Presently 
she saw the moon was beginning to light up 
the garden and the evening star was shining, 
large and bright, and then she suddenly re- 
membered it must be getting late, and yet 
there had been no summons to tea. 

She went to the house, and at the side door. 
Myrtle met her. 

Honey,” she said, “ don’t make a bit of 
noise, and don’t laugh or say funny things 
just now when you go in.” 

Why not. Myrtle ? Nobody’s sick, I 
hope ?” 

13 



K 


145 


146 


FEENWOOD. 


only heart sick. You never saw 
your uncle Will, did you, dear ?" 

^‘No; is he here?” said Hattie, surprised 
at this greeting. 

“He’s master’s youngest son, you know, 
and he’s been away out West for a long while ; 
the letter that came to-night tells that he’s 
sick — ^very sick — and I wouldn’t wonder if 
master set out by to-morrow’s train to go to 
him.” 

“ Oh, Myrtle, why didn’t you call me ? 
Can’t I do something to help ?” 

“ They’ve been talking and crying and cry- 
ing and talking together for the last hour. I 
don’t ’spect they’ve missed you, honey. But 
just now mistress called for tea, and I reckon 
you might go in.” 

Here was a new situation for Hattie; she 
had seen but little domestic trouble in her 
life — ^rarely been called upon to act as a com- 
forter to any one — and now to find this cloud 
of sorrow resting upon her dear grandparents 
and their cheerful home was indeed enough to 
make her sad. Before going into the room 
she paused a few minutes in the entry to col- 
lect herself a little, that she might not say or 
do anything unbecoming ; she felt as if going 


FERNWOOD. 


147 


into the presence of sorrow had something 
solemn about it. When the tea-bell rang, she 
went in. 

Grandma, let me pour out the tea to- 
night,'' she said, gently, won't you?" 

If you can lift the heavy tea-pot, dear, I 
would be very glad to have you do it," answer- 
ed the old lady, trying to look like herself. 

^‘We have had serious news, Hattie, my 
dear," said Mr. Cheston. I shall have to 
start early in the morning on a journey to the 
West ; do you think you can take good care 
of grandma while I am gone ?" 

I'll do everything I can with my whole 
heart, grandpa," Hattie replied. 

Mrs. Cheston silently wiped the tears from 
her eyes ; her trial was great that she could 
not take the journey with her husband, but it 
was too far; and besides that, preparation 
must be made for receiving the invalid, if his 
life should be spared to be nursed into perfect 
recovery here at his old home. There were 
no telegraph wires in those days, but grandpa 
expected to write every day. The case was not 
a hopeless one as yet, but there were reasons 
which Hattie did not understand why the ill- 
ness of this son at a distance from home 


148 


FEENWOOD. 


caused peculiar feelings of anxiety in the 
hearts of his parents. 

Hattie’s first effort to help her grandma 
succeeded entirely. She poured out the tea 
very nicely, and grandpa told her he would 
not want a better cup of tea than she had 
given him; it was just as he liked it. The 
dear child did not know he would have 
liked ” it almost any way that night, hut she 
was encouraged. 

When the trunk was to be packed, Hattie 
was ready to bring the different things from 
the drawers for Mrs. Cheston to put in ; she 
even suggested finding a corner for a bottle 
of cologne that she thought might refresh 
her sick uncle, ^'in case his head ached.” 

Instead of going to her bright little room 
that night with no shadow upon her thoughts, 
as in general, Hattie went slowly and 
thoughtfully after kissing hjer beloved grand- 
parents and bidding her grandpa a tender 
good-bye. Her first experience of the changes 
and chances of this mortal life had come upon 
her young spirit ; the world was not all lying 
in sunshine, as it had thus far appeared to her. 
To some children the effect of this discovery 
would have been a desire to go away from the 


FERNWOOD. 


149 


place where trouble bad made an entrance, 
but it was not so with Hattie. She began to 
look for some way of helping her beloved 
grandma to sustain her trial ; she remembered 
the many pleasant and instructive hours she 
had enjoyed through her efforts to give her 
happiness during this visit, and gratitude as 
well as affection led her to try to return this 
kindness as far as a child could do so. Her 
busy little brain was full of plans for saving 
grandma trouble, and surprising her with work 
already accomplished, and going very quickly 
to do her bidding, when sleep overcame her, 
and she knew nothing more until the sunshine 
was streaming into the room and she heard 
the carriage- wheels on the gravel beneath her 
window; her grandfather had just driven off 
to the station. 

By the time Hattie was washed and dressed. 
Myrtle came up for her. 

‘^Keadynow, missy?" she said. Master 
took his breakfast before he started, but mis- 
tress is waiting for you." 

“Yes, Myrtle ; I’m coming right away. Does 
grandma seem pretty well this morning ?" 

“Very downhearted: she looks ten years 
older than she did yesterday ; but little Hat- 


150 


FERNWOOD. 


tie will cheer her up ; and something tells me 
young Master Will isn't going to die this time.’* 
Hattie felt brighter for this expression of 
Myrtle’s hopefulness, so she looked more ani- 
mated when she went into the room where 
Mrs. Cheston sat at the table waiting for her. 

Grandma,” said the child, with a loving 
kiss, we’ll try to get the room ready against 
grandpa comes back with Uncle Will. Which 
used to be his room ?” 

Poor Hattie had, without intending it, said 
just the w'ords that were the hardest for her 
grandma to bear at that moment, and the 
consequence was that Mrs. Cheston’s tears 
flowed without restraint for a little while. 
Hattie could only stand still and, holding her 
grandma’s head pressed to her breast, wait un- 
til she became more calm. 

At length Mrs. Cheston resolutely wiped 
her tears away, and said, 

“ There, darling ! now I am better. I tried 
so hard to keep up before your grandpa that 
I am weaker now, but we’ll have our break- 
fast, and then I can talk to you.” 


CHAPTER XVII. 


HE words of Hattie that had struck 
so painful a chord were, Which used 
to be his room ?” 

This absent uncle, of whom the child 
had really known nothing, had left 
home suddenly some four years before this 
time. His room was found one morning 
empty, the bed not having been occupied, his 
trunk and all his clothing gone, and a note 
left on the dressing-table saying he had gone 
to seek his fortune at a distance, and his pa- 
rents need not try to trace his wanderings. 
The only explanation of this strange conduct 
was found in the fact that, having a genial 
temperament and social disposition, he had 
become intimate with associates who exercised 
a bad influence over him, and who led him to 
think that he was kept down and made to sub- 
mit to his father when he ought to be his own 
master and have full liberty of action. 

It seemed almost like the temptation of 

151 



152 


FEKNWOOD. 


Satan in urging our first parents away 
from their safe and happy home to whisper 
such words into the ears of one who was 
blessed with such parents and a home such as 
but few young men are privileged to enjoy ; 
yet, as the human heart is prone to evil and 
naturally inclines to listen to the voice of 
Satan more readily than to the whispers of 
conscience, the poison did its work with but 
little resistance. The young man had finished 
his education, but had not yet decided upon 
the kind of business he preferred entering 
into, and in the mean time was helping his 
father on the farm, while he brightened the 
old homestead by his cheerful, lively ways. 

His duties through the day were not ne- 
glected, but of the manner in which his even- 
ings were spent his parents were frequently 
ignorant. Nothing could have been more 
sudden or unlooked for than this rash depart- 
ure from his home. Mr. and Mrs. Cheston 
for three years were left mourning as for a 
child lost to them by death. At this time 
Hattie was too young t6 know anything about 
the trouble, and her mother had not alluded 
to it. But about one year before this summer 
of her visit news had at length been received 


FERNWOOD. 


163 


from this prodigal son. He had become weary 
of his wandering and wayward life (strange 
to say, he had not been vicious), and had been 
brought to repentance through the agency of 
a sermon preached one evening in a village 
where he was stopping for the night. 

He was not yet prepared to come home, 
certain views and plans being presented to his 
mind which would, h^ thought, enable him, 
after a time, to return to his father’s house 
without being a burden on him for his support. 
His parents, in their joy at his restoration to the 
paths of industry and virtue, would have pre- 
ferred receiving him just as he was and doing 
everything for his comfort themselves, but 
their requests were vain, and from' that time 
intercourse had been kept up through ftrequent 
and satisfactory letters. 

It was no wonder, then, that the news of 
this son’s illness proved almost too much for 
his parents to bear : the fear that they might 
nevermore meet him on earth, after the man- 
ner of his leaving them, was sufficient to make 
them unhappy, and had they not put their 
trust in the same merciful Father who had 
brought the wanderer back to the fold, they 
could not have borne the trial. 


154 


FERNWOOD. 


After Hattie had been made acquainted 
with this history — ^given to her partly by 
Mrs. Cheston, partly by Myrtle — she became 
more interested than ever in hearing about 
her uncle, and about his various occupations 
on the farm while he lived at home and was 
like sunshine in the house. 

She found now that it was Uncle Will who 
had built the tasteful little bird-houses on 
poles in the back yard to which birds came 
every spring regularly to lay their eggs. 
The ornamental frames for climbing plants 
which Myrtle kept so nicely whitened were 
also of his manufacture. There was a fanciful 
weathercock on top of the coach-house, too, 
which he had designed and caused to be made. 

Active and industrious by nature, he had 
generally something on hand, either for use 
or ornament, which his parents were gratified 
to find finished and placed in some appropriate 
spot about the house or grounds ; but his prin- 
cipal charm was his sweet and affectionate dis- 
position. 

And this was the son who had been tempted 
by unprincipled companions to wound his 
parents by deserting them in their old age ! 


CHAPTER XVIII. 

ITTLE Caroline grew rapidly better 
after the day of Mrs. Cheston’s visit ; 
the disease reached its crisis about 
that time, and the arrival of her 
mother just afterward had a very 
happy effect in hastening her recovery. The 
child possessed warm affections, and loved her 
mother very dearly, notwithstanding she was 
but little in her society. 

Mrs. White sent a note to Mrs. Cheston to 
tell the cheering news, and to say that Caro- 
line would like to see Hattie for a little while. 

At first Hattie thought she would like to 
go, but then she remembered that she was 
left in charge of grandma, and decided that 
she would not go and leave her all alone, even 
for a couple of hours. 

Mrs. Cheston urged her to go and not feel 
constrained to stay on her account, but Hat- 
tie remained firm. 

When the messenger with the note in an- 

156 



156 


FERNWOOD. 


swer had gone back, grandma took the little 
girl in her arms, and kissing her fondly, said, 
I am very glad, dear, that you were will- 
ing to stay with me to-day. I am happier to 
have you near me, and I thank you very much 
for deciding not to leave me.” 

These words more than repaid Hattie for the 
slight effort it had cost her to give up the 
visit. 

On this day news was expected from Mr. 
Cheston ; it was the first day they could pos- 
sibly hear. About eleven o’clock Myrtle 
came to the door with two or three letters, 
which she gave to Mrs. Cheston ; one was 
quickly selected, and with trembling hands 
the old lady broke it open. Good news ” 
were the first words at the top of the page, 
and being relieved of fear at once, she read 
the letter through rapidly but calmly. 

Myrtle, who had stood by all anxiety, ex- 
claimed. 

Then he’s better ?” 

“Much better,” said Mrs. Cheston; “the 
danger was past before his father reached him, 
and now he is thought to be improving daily.” 

“ And how did master bear the journey ?” 
asked the faithful servant. 


FERNWOOD. 


157 


“ He was much tired, he says, but the wel- 
come he received rested him more than any- 
thing else would have done.” 

Hattie pressed her grandmother’s hand, 
which she had been holding. Will they 
come home now, grandma ?” she said. 

Grandpa does not say in this letter, dar- 
ling, but we shall hear again to-morrow.” 

‘‘Well,” said Myrtle, “now we may all 
breathe free again. I felt pretty near sure 
that young Master Will wasn’t going to be 
taken away from us all this time. Please the 
Lord, he’ll live to be a comfort and blessing to 
his parents for many a long year yet.” 

“May the Lord grant it!” said Mrs. Ches- 
ton, devoutly, and then she rose from her 
chair and retired to her room, where Hattie 
knew she would like to be left alone for a time. 

But on going out to the piazza, and from 
there to the garden, Hattie was surprised to 
notice how bright everything looked; the 
flowers looked as if a refreshing shower had 
increased their beauty, and the birds were 
singing their blithest songs : all nature had 
a new, revived aspect. The reason existed in 
herself alone; the dark veil over her vision 
caused by sorrow was now withdrawn, and 

14 


158 


FERNWOOD. 


she saw everything once more through the 
eyes of her naturally cheerful disposition. 

From that time Hattie remembered every 
morning to feel thankful when nothing pain- 
ful had occurred, even if there was no special 
cause for gratitude for added happiness. 

There is frequently as much reason for be- 
ing grateful for what we are mercifully spared 
in the -way of trial as for favours that are 
bestowed on us. 

One of the other letters received that morn- 
ing was from Hattie’s mother. It brought the 
intelligence that she and her husband were 
about setting out on a journey which would 
probably keep them away three or four weeks, 
— a business journey of Mr. Winslow’s. 

They were starting rather suddenly, and 
would not be able to come out to the farm ; 
but knowing from Hattie’s letters how entirely 
happy she was, they left her with grandma 
without the slightest feeling of anxiety ; still, 
if she should become homesick, she was at 
liberty to return in their absence, as the house 
would be taken care of by her aunt, and would 
be open all the time. 

“ Ho you think you will want to go, dear ?” 
said Mrs. Cheston. 


FERNWOOD. 


159 


Oil no, grandma. I shall stay here and 
take care of you. Grandpa told me to do it/’ 
Hattie answered, with much warmth. 

do not know what I should do without 
you, my child, but I must not be selfish about 
keeping you.” 

“ There is no chance for you to be selfish, 
grandma, for it is my choice to stay, though 
I am glad you want me.” 

“ Your mother had not heard of her 
brother’s illness when she wrote this letter,” 
said Mrs. Cheston, and now that he is better, 
I will not allow it to alter her plans.” 

Mother gets away from home so seldom,” 
said Hattie, “ that I am glad she is going to 
take this jaunt with father. How differently 
this summer is passing, grandma, from what 
we expected when I came here to spend my 
birth-day with you !” 

Yes, dear; we did not see into the future 
then as it has since turned out, and I often 
think it is a great mercy and a wise provision 
of our heavenly Father that we do not see 
what is in store for us.” 

I am sure I had no idea that I would be 
so much favoured as to spend the whole sum- 
mer with you at this dear old house.” 


160 


FEENWOOD. 


JSTo, dear, and you did not foresee that you 
were to be a comforter under trouble to your 
grandma, yet you have been and still are." 

^‘Oh, there’s Euth!" exclaimed Hattie, and 
out she ran to receive her friend. 

The news had of course been heard at the 
mill that Mr. Cheston had been suddenly 
called away from home ; directions had been 
left in writing for the miller during his ab- 
sence, but Euth had come with a kind and 
affectionate note from her mother to Mrs. 
Cheston, begging to know if there was any 
way in which her husband or herself could be 
of use while she was left alone, and express- 
ing the greatest sympathy in the sorrow that 
had been the cause of Mr. Cheston’s sudden 
departure. 

While Mrs. Cheston went into the library 
to reply to this note, Hattie took Euth out to 
show her all the attractions of the garden 
and poultry-yard, which to her were always 
great. The little girls were growing to like 
each other more and more. As they wandered 
about from one spot to another, talking as 
well as admiring, Hattie said : 

“Euth, did you ever hear anybody talk 
about having a mission ?” 


FEENWOOD. 


161 


“ How do you mean, Hattie ?” said Euth, — 
“ going out as a missionary ?” 

No, I don’t think that’s it ; I heard some 
ladies at home, when they came to see my 
mother, talk about not living for themselves, 
but finding out what their mission was, and I 
couldn’t exactly understand it, but I’ve thought 
I would like to know what my mission is.” 

Euth answered with a merry laugh : Well, 
Hattie, if I was to stop and try to find out 
what mine is, I know the work wouldn’t go 
on very well ; so I think my mission must be 
just to do whatever wants doing, whether it 
is pleasant or not, and not think about it.” 

That’s what you have been doing ever 
since your mother was taken sick after her 
fall, Euth, and I guess you are right; your 
example has done me good — I am sure of that : 
but what is my mission ?” 

you knew how you have cheered up 
your grandmother since you have been here, 
you would think your, mission was to make her 
happier than she has been for a long time, 
Hattie. Mother and I noticed that Mrs. Ches- 
ton was not in as good spirits as usual before 
you came, but she got brighter right away.” 

I think I see it now, Euth ; when I came 
u* L 


162 


FEENWOOD. 


here to spend my birth-day, I came because I 
wanted to, for I was always fond of grandma ; 
but after the school was closed I do believe it 
was right for me to stay here and do all I 
could for the comfort and help of my dear 
grandma and grandpa: anyhow, I mean to 
think it was ordered so : but I did not know I 
had found my mission.” 

Hattie was not aware that persons are often 
found looking away off on the verge of the 
horizon to find their duties, when they are 
lying close at hand. 


CHAPTER XIX. 



I^OR a time the news from Mr. Cheston 
y continued to be of a cheering charac- 
ter ; the invalid son was mentioned 
as getting better daily, though no 
time was fixed for his coming home. 

After sevefal letters had been exchanged, 
Mrs. Cheston began to feel anxious; she 
thought it singular that her husband named 
no day for their return, uor spoke of having 
things in readiness for them at home. She 
noticed now also that no special mention was 
made of her son’s improvement. 

But at length the mystery was solved by a 
letter saying that the young man had again 
been very ill, but was now getting better ; the 
improvement at first had been but transient, 
and a relapse took place from which he suf- 
fered nfore than in the first attack. He was 
now more likely to recover than he had been 
at all ; and as his strength was rapidly return- 
ing, it was desirable that his room should 

163 


164 


FEENWOOD. 


be ready for bis arrival some time within a 
week. 

^^Well, grandma,” said Hattie, “we shall 
have nothing to do but just sit down and wait; 
for there’s nothing more to be done in the way 
of getting ready, except the flowers that I 
shall put in Uncle Will’s room the day we ex- 
pect he will be here.” 

“ This letter has cheered me so much, dear, 
that I think perhaps we can fill up the time 
in some pleasant way without sitting down 
doing nothing, as you said just now. How 
would you like to invite poor little Caroline to 
come and spend a few days with you.” 

“ I would be very glad to have her, grand- 
ma, and help to get her made stronger, if it 
would not worry you.” 

“ It would be better for me to think of some 
one besides myself, Hattie, just now ; we could 
make it pleasant, I think, for Caroline, and, at 
any rate, she would find it a change, and they 
say that is- good for invalids. I will write and 
invite her.” 

Mrs. White herself replied to the note, say- 
ing that nothing could have been more wel- 
come than this invitation. Caroline was much 
better, but seemed restless, as if longing to 


FEENWOOD. 


165 


get away from the associations of her sick- 
room. She would bring her over to stay a 
few days the following afternoon. 

Hattie was delighted with this answer, and 
asked, 

Which room shall Caroline have, grand- 
ma?” 

‘‘ The one joining yours, my dear.” 

Then may I go and get it ready right 
away ?” 

“ If you prefer doing it yourself, you may ; 
go and ask Myrtle about it, dear,” said Mrs. 
Cheston. 

Myrtle was at the spring-house, but, full of 
zeal in Caroline's cause, Hattie did not wait 
for a more appropriate time; down she ran 
through the meadow, almost upsetting Myrtle 
when she reached the spring-house as she 
stooped over skimming a pan of milk. 

“ What in the world, honey ! Why, what's 
come over the child!” exclaimed the aston- 
ished woman. 

^'Oh, Myrtle, I want you to give me the 
sheets and pillow-cases and things,” Hattie 
said, panting between her words^ “for the 
bed I'm going to make up for Caroline.” 

“Sheets!” cried Myrtle; “why, does the 


166 


FEENWOOD. 


child think I keep ’em down here in the spring- 
house ?” 

Hattie laughed. 

“ Why, Miss Harriet, can’t you be a little 
mite patient ? I’ll get the room ready before 
she comes and Myrtle looked more dignified 
than Hattie had ever seen her. 

‘‘ But I want to do it all myself. Myrtle ; 
won’t you please tell me where to find the 
things ?” 

Hum !” said Myrtle, and went on to skim 
another pan of milk. 

Poor Hattie’s ardour was considerably 
damped. She said nothing, but thought 
within herself : 

Well. I’ve not got the right mission now, 
I’m afraid. I guess I had better not interfere 
with Myrtle any more.” 

Then in her usual sweet and winning voice 
she said, Never mind. Myrtle ; after all, 
there is no hurry: she is not coming till to- 
morrow afternoon. I’ll wait to do my part in 
fixing the room till after you have had time 
to do yours,” and then went up to the house 
again. 

She did not go at once into the parlour, but 
consoled herself for her disappointment by 


FERNWOOD. 


167 


selecting the flowers that she thought would 
he just right to cut for the adornment of Car- 
oline’s room the next day. 

That evening, at tea, Hattie found by her 
plate a beautiful cake such as she knew Myr- 
tle only made for her on special occasions ; the 
old servant intended it as an apology for her 
want of sympathy at the spring-house that 
morning, and as such Hattie very willingly 
allowed it to be understood, without a word on 
the subject on either side being spoken. But 
she confined her exertions after that more 
within her own sphere of duty, and did not 
meddle with Myrtle’s work. 

When bed- time came that night, and Hattie 
went to kiss Mrs. Cheston good-night, she 
said, 

‘‘ How, grandma dear, I want you to un- 
derstand one thing.” 

And what is that, darling ?” 

Why, it is that I am your little Hattie for 
everything just the same after Caroline comes 
that I am now. I want to wait on you, and 
walk with you, and read to you, just as I do 
when we are here by ourselves.” 

You shall, my dear ; all the difierence will 
be that Caroline will share our pleasures with 


168 


FEENWOOD. 


US, and that we shall ride instead of walk, be- 
cause she is not strong enough yet.” 

Then I shall be very glad to have her,” 
said Hattie. “ I think she’ll get well a great 
deal faster because she will be with my dear 
grandma. Good-night, again, and one more 
kiss.” 

And Hattie went to her slumbers with the 
best intentions of doing her double duty faith- 
fully for the coming few days, and before ly- 
ing down she prayed very sincerely that she 
might be strengthened to be a great help and 
comfort, especially to her grandmother, and 
after that to Caroline. 


/ 


CHAPTER XX. 

AROLINE came on the appointed af- 
ternoon, looking very white and thin, 
poor child ! There was an expression 
of sweetness on her face, however, that 
had not been there before. 

Mrs. Cheston gave her a warm welcome, and 
Hattie led her into the parlour with great care 
and tenderness. After Mrs. White had gone 
home and Caroline was conducted to her 
chamber, Hattie's efforts to make the change 
a pleasant one to her became more evident in 
several ways. 

^^Oh,” said Caroline, ^^here are the lovely 
flowers that seem sweeter here than anywhere 
else. I think I should know a bunch of flow- 
ers that came from your garden just by the 
smell, even if I could not see them.” 

Yet our flowers are not rare,” said Hattie. 

^^No, but it is the mixture; there is a 
way of putting flowers together that has a 
great deal to do with their perfume.” 

15 



169 


170 


FERNWOOD. 


love this garden dearly/' said Hattie; 
“it is old-fashioned and full of things that 
people now-a-days don't care to cultivate; 
but if a flower is sweet and pretty, how can it 
take anything away from its value to be 
old-fashioned ?” 

Caroline could not answer this important 
question of her friend, for she entirely agreed 
with her. 

“At Dr. White's," she said, “the gardener 
seems to stand between me and the flowers ; 
he'll say, 

“ ‘ Don't cut that flower. Miss Caroline ; it 
will spoil the looks of the bed,' or, ‘ That bud 
is not sufficiently blown yet. Miss Caroline,' 
when I prefer buds of roses to the roses them- 
selves." 

“ Did you not walk in the garden after you 
got stronger?" said Hattie. 

“ Only once or twice ; there was no freedom 
there. The truth is, Hattie, I wanted to come 
here so much that no place at home seemed 
nice. I was too happy for anything when 
your dear grandma sent the invitation for me 
to come." 

“We will try and help you to get better," 
said Hattie; “dear grandma is doing just as 


FERN WOOD. 171 

inucli for others as if she had no trouble of her 
own, but I am not going to forget her." 

When do you look for Mr. Cheston 
back?" 

‘'We cannot tell; Uncle Will got worse 
again, but he is better now. The uncertainty 
tries grandma, but I believe we shall know in 
plenty of time to have things ready for him ; 
indeed, there is nothing more to do, as far as I 
can see now. But I must not talk too much 
to you ; shall I bring your tea up to your room, 
Caroline?" 

“No, thank you; I am strong enough to 
go down again, and I would rather sit at the 
table in your pleasant dining-room." 

Then Hattie went down stairs, and left her 
little friend lying on the couch in her room 
that she might get quite rested after her ride. 

The couch was near the window, which over- 
looked the garden and fields beyond ; at a little 
distance the barn and cattle-sheds were to be 
seen, though somewhat hidden by trees. After 
Caroline had lain still with her eyes closed 
half an hour or so, she sat up, and looking 
from the window, found the sun had gone 
down, leaving a mass of lovely clouds in the 
west ; there was a gentle breeze stirring the 


172 


FEENWOOD. 


leaves, and the dewy air was filled with per- 
fume. The soft, shadowy look of coming 
night was spreading over the grounds ; there 
was a distant lowing of cows coming home to 
be milked; a sound of ploughs, carts, and 
harness being put up for the night; men 
whistling at the barn and talking to horses 
at the watering-trough. Everything seemed to 
say, “The day’s work is done; rest is com- 
ing.” 

A sudden merry laugh not far off caused 
Caroline to stretch her head out of the win- 
dow, and there was Hattie coming up the 
meadow from the spring-house; she had a 
plate of golden butter in her hand, while 
Myrtle carried a pail of milk in one hand and 
a pitcher of cream in the other. Some quaint 
remark of the old servant had called forth 
Hattie’s merriment. 

“ How nice it must be to live on a farm !” 
Caroline said to herself. 

She lay for a little while longer enjoying 
the tranquillity of the deepening twilight, 
watching the gradual change from day to 
night, listening to the last songs of birds and 
the variety of insects that are to be heard after 
sunset, and, lastly, gazing on the brightness 


FERNWOOD. 


173 


of the evening star coming out clear in the 
dark sky. Just as she rose from her couch she 
was joined by Hattie, who had come to take 
her down to tea after giving her a long time 
to rest. 

This first evening at Fernwood was so 
peaceful and sweet that Caroline made a great 
progress toward recovery without knowing it. 

After supper Hattie read the chapter and 
grandma offered up the usual prayers in the 
family, not omitting to pray for the little 
“ stranger within their gates.” A feeling of 
support and comfort came over the poor child, 
whose nervous system had been so seriously 
injured, and when she went to bed, her sleep 
was more refreshing than it had been since 
her illness commenced. 

Euth was invited to spend a day at the 
farm as soon as Mrs. Cheston thought Caroline 
would be strong enough to enjoy her society. 
The visit was a great recreation to the faith- 
ful little girl. Her mother had now so far 
regained her accustomed strength that she 
performed most of her duties without fatigue. 
Euth was still very valuable in the house, 
but she was not obliged to think and plan so 
much as formerly. 


174 


FERNWOOD. 


She had prepared some needle-work to take 
with her on her visit, but when Mrs. Foster 
saw the bundle, she said, 

“ Now, my child, you are to leave that work 
at home. I cannot allow you to give yourself 
no rest at all ; this day is to be a day of pleas- 
ure, and you may forget even me, if you will, 
among the rest of your cares.” 

Do not fancy I can do that, mother,” said 
Euth. ‘‘1 shall think of you many times, 
but if you would rather I should not take this 
little shirt, I will not. I have learned a new 
kind of knitting-stitch, and I’ll do that, in- 
stead.” 

Well, you may take your knitting-needles : 
perhaps the little girls would like to learn it 
too ; but I want you to be out of doors and 
play to-day.” 

Mrs. Cheston had the same kind of feeling 
in regard to Hattie ; she desired to have all 
three of the children enjoy themselves, free 
from remembrance of sickness or care, so she 
told Hattie that Myrtle and she had many 
things to attend to that day, and they would 
be obliged if she would take her little friends 
out of the way to the summer-house and over 
to the nearest woods as much as she could ; 


FEENWOOD. 


175 


they should have everything to take with 
them that would make their time pass pleas- 
antly, and besides that, when they went to the 
woods she would send cushions and camp- 
chairs over that they might run no risk of 
taking cold from the ground. 

Hattie innocently acquiesced in all her 
grandmother s plans, leaving her with Myrtle, 
because she thought she was doing more to 
oblige her in that way than if she kept Ruth 
and Caroline in the house to be entertained, 
and the consequence was that the children 
passed a day of such complete enjoyment as 
they never afterward forgot. 

They were sent for about sunset, and though 
the wood was but a short distance off, grand- 
ma thought they would like the fun of riding 
home in the ox-cart, which had just come in 
from the fields. So she caused plenty of hay 
to be laid in it, and when the children packed 
in their various possessions and got in them- 
selves, they had indeed a merry ride home; 
going rather out of the way for the sake of a 
back lane that led up by the barn. And such 
a tea as Myrtle had provided for them ! Fruit 
and the richest cream were the crowning lux- 
uries ; but Hattie imagined that the various 


176 


FERNWOOD. 


things that grandma had told her were ‘ to be 
attended to by herself and Myrtle were some 
of them; at any rate, speaking for themselves 
on the tea-table. 

Some of the beautiful and delicate ferns for 
which that wood was celebrated were brought 
home, and the children found pleasant occu- 
pation in pressing them between the leaves of 
old books, and years afterward the sight of 
those ferns brought the whole scene of that 
happy day in the woods vividly before their 
minds. 


CHAPTER XXI. 

EVERAL weeks had now passed since 
the night when their son’s illness had 
first been made known to Mr. and 
Mrs. Cheston, and the time still 
seemed indefinite when he would be 
able to bear the journey home. In the inter- 
val Mrs. Cheston was keeping up bravely, yet 
there were times when Hattie found her with 
her Bible open before her and traces of tears 
on her face; the long suspense had begun to 
affect her, although she was trying to conceal 
from those around her how much she really 
suffered. 

At length, to Hattie’s great delight, her 
mother suddenly made her appearance at the 
farm one morning after the usual train had 
arrived. She had hired the express wagon 
and driven down from the station. The meet- 
ing between her and Hattie was a very joyous 
one, but not so much so between her mother 
and herself ; she saw marks of weariness and 
M 177 



178 


FERNWOOD. 


anxiety on the countenance of Mrs. Cheston, 
which pained her exceedingly. 

“You have not come with the intention of 
taking Hattie away from me, I hope?” said 
Mrs. Cheston, soon after the various pieces of 
news and information on both sides had been 
given. 

“ Are you not tired of her, dear mother ?” 

“ Tired of her, Lizzie ? She has been the 
light of the house, and my greatest earthly 
comfort since your father left us. I don’t want 
to be too exacting, but if you could let me 
keep her until we see the travellers home, or, 
at any rate, until something definite is fixed 
upon, I should take it as a great favour.” 

“ Oh, dear mother, do not imagine for a mo- 
ment that I would take Hattie away if you 
find her a comfort to you. I shall be delighted 
to have her at home again when she comes, 
because I miss her, of course, very much, but 
I think the good she is receiving with you in 
every way is so great that I am better satis- 
fied to have her stay, and your wishing it is 
reason enough. Her health seems to have 
improved very much.” 

“ I am so happy, mother ; how could I help 
growing stronger ? And I am learning how 


FERNWOOD. 179 

to do a great many important things too/’ 
said Hattie. 

“ Between grandma and Myrtle, I only 
wonder you are not pretty well spoiled, my 
dear,” said her mother, “but I do hope you 
will be more apt in learning good housekeep- 
ing wa3rs than I was when I was your age.” 

“ Hattie bids fair to be a first-rate house- 
keeper,” said grandma, looking fondly at the 
child, “ but, more than that, she is a comforter 
in trouble and a kind little nurse in sickness. 
We did not half know what kind of child she 
was until she came here to spend one day 
and remained more than two months.” 

Mrs. Winslow s visit had a cheering effect 
upon her mother ; she had a bright and lively 
disposition, always saw the best side of every- 
thing, and she had many pleasant little inci- 
dents to relate connected with her recent 
travels, to which all her hearers listened with 
much interest; even Myrtle prolonged her 
duties around the table for the sake of hear- 
ing the wonderful adventures “ Miss Lizzie ” 
had to tell. She had visited persons known 
to grandma in old times, and of course Myrtle 
was as anxious to hear all about these old 
friends as her mistress was. 


180 


FERNWOOD. 


While Mrs. Winslow was taking an early 
cup of tea before being driven to the station, 
she said to Mrs. Oheston, 

Now, dear mother, let me beg of you to 
write and ask father to come home, without 
waiting for brother Will, as soon as he can 
safely leave him. When he gets strong enough 
he can follow, but I think you have been alone 
quite long enough.” 

ril think about it, dear,” said Mrs. Ches- 
ton; ‘‘my hopes have been fixed upon seeing 
them both together, but if it is not the will 
of my heavenly Father that I should be thus 
indulged, I will try to bear it.” 

Hattie rode with her mother to the cars, 
and as they went, Mrs. Winslow said to her 
that she could not help feeling a little uneasy 
about grandma, she looked so badly. 

“ Do your best, my darling,” she said, “ as 
you have done all along, and if grandma seems 
more ill, let me know instantly, and I will 
leave everything and come to you at once.” 

“How could you leave all the other chil- 
dren, mother, after you have been away so long 
already ?” 

“ I will try and persuade yoUr father’s sister 
to come again and stay,” she said ; “ anyhow. 


FERNWOOD. 


181 


write to me at once, Hattie. There’s the whis- 
tle !” and there was just time for Mrs. Winslow 
to get on the platform before the evening train 
came dashing up. 

I got one kiss, though,” said Hattie to 
herself as her mother took her seat in the car 
and waved her hand to her little daughter 
before being carried off and out of sight as if 
by magic. 

Hattie looked at the platform, at the empty 
railway, and the dispersing people, and all 
seemed a blank. One moment her mother was 
with her and they were talking together ; the 
next moment, almost, they were separated, and 
far beyond each other’s sight. 

^‘Well,” thought Hattie, ^Hhere’s nothing 
to do but get into the carriage and go home. 
Eailroads are queer things.” 

But much as she had enjoyed her mother’s 
bright visit, the parting words about her be- 
loved grandmother lingered in her memory. 

^'Can she be ill,” thought Hattie, ‘‘and 
afraid to let me know it ?” 

Then a bright thought struck her; she 
feared it was a bold thought. However, she 
said to the man who was driving, 

“Simeon, could you drive right fast, and 
16 


182 


FEENWOOD. 


take me round to Dr. White’s before I go 
home ?” 

‘'Certain, Miss Hattie; did you want to 
see the young girl that stayed at our house ?” 

“No. I am not going on purpose to see 
her, but I want to stop there a few minutes,” 
said Hattie. 

The horses were not long in making the 
increased distance, and the doctor was at 
home. Mrs. White and Caroline were absent, 
— out driving, the girl said. 

“How are you all at home, Hattie?” said 
Dr. White. “ Grandpa not got home yet ?” 

“ He has not come home. Dr. White, and — 
I hope I am not too forward, but I think 
grandma does not seem right well. I came 
without her knowledge to ask if you will 
come over and see what is the matter with 
her.” 

“ Does not seem right well ? Hum !” said 
the doctor. “ Well, I am not much surprised, 
because she has had a wearing time of sus- 
pense and anxiety. Yes, Hattie, I’ll go home 
with you now, my dear;” and the doctor left 
word that his man might come over to Fern- 
wood and bring him back in about an hour. 

“I wonder if grandma will think I have 


JFerntuooli 



** 1 came to ask. if you will come over and see what is the 
matter with grandma?” p. 182. 





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FERNWOOD. 


183 


done wrong ?” said Hattie, greatly relieved 
that the doctor was going so promptly, and 
yet not without some uneasiness from having 
acted without advice. 

You don’t think she will be unwilling to 
see an old friend like me, do you, my dear ? 
I am not uneasy about that. But, Hattie, I 
noticed her appearance last Sunday in church ; 
she looked pale and very sad. You have taken 
the matter in hand in good time, however, and 
I trust we may soon get her well again, with 
the Lord’s blessing on our efforts. 


CHAPTER XXII. 



f YETLE stood at the door when the 
carriage stopped ; as twilight had be- 
gun to deepen, she did not see who 
was inside, but was anxiously expect- 
ing Hattie. 

I’m so glad to see you home again, honey,” 
she said, hurriedly. Mistress has had a faint- 
ing turn ; hadn’t we better let Sim go right 
back and bring Dr. White?” 

I’m here already, Myrtle,” said the doctor, 
in his calm, reassuring voice. 

Bless the Lord, my dear sir 1” said Myr- 
tle, hardly knowing what she did say. Come 
right in ; the good Spirit must have sent you.” 

On the wide sofa in the sitting-room Mrs. 
Cheston was reclining, somewhat relieved by 
the remedies Myrtle had promptly adminis- 
tered, but very weak still. Her attack had 
been of an alarming description, and required 
immediate remedies. Dr. White remained 
with her for an hour, until he had succeeded 

184 


FERNWOOD. 


185 


in producing such results as he had wished, 
and in preventing further danger to the brain, 
and then he joined Hattie in the library. She 
was waiting there to receive his directions. 

First, Hattie, let me tell you,” said the 
doctor, that you need have no fear you were 
too bold in coming for me this evening with- 
out leave ; you have probably, under Provi- 
dence, saved your grandma a severe spell of 
illness and perhaps her life, by your thought- 
fulness. Had I not seen her until morning, 
I cannot answer for the consequences ; every- 
thing is going favourably now, and I hope in 
a day or two she will be well again. To-night 
I should prefer her not going up stairs or 
using any exertion, but Myrtle can arrange 
a bed on the sofa for her, and she will stay in 
the room. How, can I trust you with the 
directions about the medicines ?” 

I think I can remember. Dr. White,” said 
Hattie, but I had better write them down.” 

So she went to get pencil and paper, and 
carefully wrote down the stated hours at which 
the different medicines were to be given 
through the evening and night. 

Eemember, my child,” said the doctor, 
noticing how white she was from excitement, 


186 


FEENWOOD. 


‘^your dear grandma is out of danger now 
entirely, thanks to your early care of her; 
you must not imagine anything worse than 
the reality. If your grandfather and uncle 
were to come home to-morrow, she would prob- 
ably he well by to-morrow night.” 

This comforted Hattie very much, and gave 
her additional strength. She set about her 
duties as nurse with a cheerful spirit. Noth- 
ing would induce her, however, to obey Myr- 
tle about sleeping in her own room ; the couch 
in the library was to be her bed for that night, 
she said. Accordingly, after the house was 
made quiet for the night, Hattie gave the 
proper medicine, and then arranged her phials 
and glasses carefully, to prevent mistakes, and 
taking grandma’s watch with her, went into 
the library. 

Four times in the night the little white 
figure came gliding in at the proper times to 
give the medicines. Myrtle was lying quietly 
in her bed on the floor, and Hattie found no 
occasion to disturb her, for grandma was 
quite comfortable, and only roused long enough 
to take her medicine and say a loving word or 
two before she slept again. ' 

At daylight Myrtle got up, and finding Mrs. 


FEENWOOD. 


187 


Cheston in a sweet, natural sleep, went quietly 
out of the room to take a look at Hattie. 

The child started up. Is grandma worse?” 
she said. 

Ho, honey, no ; lie down again. But I see 
by the glasses, that you’ve been attending to 
her in the night without calling me. Now 
take your sleep out, and I’ll mind mistress.” 

Believed in her mind, Hattie sank back on 
her pillow. The first long night of anxious 
nursing she had ever known was now happily 
at an end, and illness does not seem so serious 
by daylight as in the weary night-watches. 

Quite early in the morning Dr. White ar- 
rived ; he was delighted with the improvement 
of his patient, and praised Hattie for having 
been so faithful in giving the medicines. Much 
depended on it, he said, and he felt sure that 
his directions for the day would be just as 
punctually obeyed. Before going away he 
went into the library and wrote a note to Mrs. 
Winslow: more because she had told Hattie 
to let her know if her mother became ill than 
because her presence was really needed. He 
mentioned to the little girl what he had done, 
and said he would put the letter himself into 
the post-ofiice as he went back. 


CHAPTER XXIII. 


RS. FOSTER Ferself, on Fearing of 
Mrs. Oheston’s sudden illness, came 
just after the doctor had gone, full 
of affectionate interest, and ready to 
stay the entire day to help nurse. 
Hattie felt gratified by this offer. There was 
really no active nursing required, but it was 
comforting to see the pleasant face of Mrs. 
Foster about the house, and also to know that, 
if any sudden change should occur, she was 
close at hand to give her counsel and assistance. 
Myrtle, of course, had many things to attend 
to in the kitchen, not the least important of 
which was preparing the nourishing food that 
would tempt Mrs. Cheston to eat more than 
she had been doing for some time. 

Hattie was seldom absent from her dear 
grandma’s side; as the day advanced and the 
fever entirely left her, Hattie brought her 
sewing and sat talking with her, or else read 
aloud from her Bible or some suitable book. 



188 


FERNWOOD. 


189 


'On one occasion, when she had been reading 
for about fifteen minutes something she thought 
would please her grandma particularly, Mrs. 
Foster noticed her eyelids drooping and her 
voice faltering more and more until it ceased, 
and with her hand in the book the weary 
child’s head sunk down on the chair-back, and 
she was fast asleep. 

Grandma smiled. ^^Dear little soul!” said 
Mrs. Foster; ^'she is conquered at last; chil- 
dren can’t lose rest at night as grown people 
can.” 

“ She shall sleep as long as possible,” said 
grandma. 'M’m getting better all the time, 
and I have good company too.” 

So the afternoon wore away, the house 
breathlessly quiet, Mrs. Foster gently step- 
ping from one room to another as things were 
needed, until at last the sun went down and 
darkness began to creep over the landscape. 
Hattie still slept on. 

She waked, at last, to find a joyful commo- 
tion in the house. At first she was confused 
and could not remember where she was, but 
hearing her mother’s voice reassured her, and 
when more lights were brought, the whole 
blessed truth flashed before her eyes. Grand- 


190 


FERNWOOD. 


pa took her in his arms and kissed her ten- 
derly, then her mother, then a tall, very pale 
and thin young man took her hand and said, 

“And this is my little niece, of whom I 
have heard so much ?” 

“Kiss your uncle Will, Hattie,” said her 
mother, and Hattie needed no second bidding. 
She threw her arms lovingly round his neck 
and gave him a warm kiss of welcome. But 
with her accustomed thoughtfulness, her next 
impulse was to look after grandma. The dear 
old lady was sitting quietly on her sofa, dry- 
ing her eyes from their tears of overflowing 
joy, and Mrs. Foster was just giving her a 
glass containing some reviving mixture; the 
suddenness of her joy had been a little too 
much for her, but no serious consequences 
seemed likely to result from it. 

The next moment Uncle Will had escaped to 
the kitchen, where Myrtle was giving him her 
own peculiar views of his long absence, his 
present appearance, and the blessedness of his 
having come home “just in time to keep his 
sainted mother from falling into her grave.” 

Such hours as this come rarely in the expe- 
rience of any human being : joy is a great re- 
storer after sickness. The quiet comfort of 


FERNWOOD. 


191 


looking upon the two faces so dear to her, and 
the happiness of holding the hand of her long- 
absent son, did more for Mrs. Cheston than 
even added medicines could have done, now 
that the actual danger of her attack had gone 
by. Had this arrival taken place the night 
before, it would have been an injury; now it 
was a blessing. 

Mrs. Foster, who was in the room when the 
travellers arrived, and who gladly welcomed 
them, soon found herself in the dining-room 
helping Myrtle in her additional preparations 
for supper. 

Explanations were soon made. Dr. White’s 
letter of that morning had reached Mrs. Win- 
slow, and she was making immediate arrange- 
ments to take the first train to her mother 
when the arrival of her father and brother on 
their way home was announced to her. Their 
distress on hearing of Mrs. Cheston’s illness 
made the time pass tediously. The hour for 
the train to start came at last, and they all 
got off. On approaching the house, the dark- 
ness alarmed Mr. Cheston ; he scarcely recog- 
nized his home without the usual array of 
bright windows. When he understood the case 
he was not surprised, and all small matters 


192 


FERNWOOD. 


became insignificant when be was told that 
bis last two letters bad not been received. 

‘^ISTo wonder your dear grandma became 
anxious,” be said to Hattie, ^‘bearing noth- 
ing for so many days ; in my last letter par- 
ticularly I prepared ber for our return to-day, 
and expected to find everything brighter than 
common, at least until I beard of her illness 
at your mother’s. There is not much certainty 
in the affairs of this world, after all, but still 
we have so much reason for gratitude that we 
have no right to complain of anything. 

I little thought, when I left your grandma, 
that my absence would be so long, but I trust 
we shall not be separated again very soon.” 

It was made known to Mrs. Cheston that 
the cause of her son’s illness had been over- 
work and too close application to his books. 
He had been teaching in a large seminary, 
and at the same time pursuing his own studies 
in the hope of obtaining a professorship in a 
certain college. This prospect he had not 
communicated to his parents; he felt a nat- 
ural distrust of himself after the earlier part 
of his life, and preferred waiting to prove the 
sincerity of his own intentions and the reality 
of his efforts toward obtaining his own sup- 


FEENWOOD. 


193 


port. Intellectual pleasures had always been 
his choice, after receiving the liberal educa- 
tion which his father had given him. 

That night, when prayers were offered up 
before retiring, thanksgivings were also ren- 
dered most abundantly. Truly, my cup 
runneth over,” were the words of the happy 
mother as she kissed her son on his way to his 
room, where Hattie had at last had the com- 
fort of putting the vases of fresh flowers, for 
in the evening she had gone out in the garden 
to her well-known flower-beds, and under the 
bright stars had selected the fairest and sweet- 
est for the welcome home. 


17 


CHAPTER XXIV. 

BOUT a week after tkis kappy return, 
Hattie was riding on horseback one 
morning, and by her side her uncle ; 
his strength was returning quite rap- 
idly, but exercise in the open air was 
directed by Dr. White. 

Grrandpa found ample occupation on the 
farm after his long absence, and, therefore, 
gave the charge of Hattie’s horseback rides 
into the hands of his son, which proved a 
pleasant and useful arrangement for both of 
them. 

“ I would like to have you stop at the mill 
a few minutes, uncle, if you have no objec- 
tion,” Hattie said as they rode along. 

“ No objection in the world, Hattie ; I used 
to spend much of my time there when I was 
a little boy. It is a dear old place.” 

^^But, uncle, you never knew Ruth, did 
you?” 

^‘Ruth Foster?” said her uncle — ^‘the 

194 



FEENWOOD. 


195 


daughter of the miller ? No : I think she 
must have been but a little child when I fre- 
quented the place. What about her ?” 

“ Oh, she's such a dear good girl ! She took 
care of her mother and the children for ever 
so many weeks while her mother was sick 
after a fall; she is so nice that I like her 
very much." 

And is not there another friend of yours, 
Hattie, at Dr. White’s ?’’ 

“ Yes, uncle : Caroline ; she was very gay 
all last winter, and went to parties, and the 
theatre, and concerts, and everything that 
grown up people go to, and this spring she 
had to come to the country to get strong, but 
I think she will never want to spend her time 
the same way again. She is very much 
changed." 

Changed for the better, do you mean. 
Hattie?" 

Yes, Uncle Will ; don’t you think it is for 
the better, when Caroline says she loves to be 
with grandma and hear her talk about trying 
to be a Christian ? and she told me she wanted 
to be good herself." 

“ Yes ; I should think the love of the world 
and worldly pleasures had not taken very deep 


196 


FERNWOOD. 


root, if she is anxious to change her way of 
life and devote herself to the service of her 
Saviour. We must try to help her, Hattie.” 

‘‘1 do not know enough to help anybody, 
Uncle Will. I would like to know more ; for 
since I have been so long with grandma and 
grandpa I think it is beautiful to be good,” 
said Hattie, very earnestly. 

Hattie,” said her uncle, “ do you know I 
have heard a great deal about you since I 
have been sick ?” 

“About me, uncle? Why, what could 
grandpa have to say about me, except that he 
left me to take care of grandma? That is all.” 

“ And that is a great deal, my dear little 
niece. You have done your duty well. Grand- 
ma had a great many things to tell of you in 
her letters.” 

“ Uncle Will,” said Hattie, with great ani- 
mation, “ when I had been here a few weeks, I 
found out that taking care of grandma was 
my mission.” 

“ How do you mean, Hattie ?” 

“ Why, uncle, some ladies who were talking 
with mother once said everybody ought to 
have a mission, and not live for themselves, but 
do something for other people all the time. 


FERNWOOD. 


197 


I used to think it was very hard and wonder- 
ful to have a mission, and not easy to find 
one.” 

‘^Well, Hattie, you have certainly found 
yours without the trouble of looking for it. 
This summer would have been a far less happy 
one to your grandparents if you had not been 
here devoting your time and services to their 
use and cheering them with your lively pres- 
ence. The last few weeks especially your 
grandma has leaned on you entirely, judging 
from her letters. Ah, my dear little niece, I 
wish I could have seen my duty as clearly 
some years ago, and stayed to comfort her, as 
you are doing now !” 

‘'You will find your mission soon, I expect. 
Uncle Win,”^aid Hattie. 

“I hope so, Hattie. I had hoped to have 
continued my studies and do some good in 
the college where my professorship would have 
been, but since I have returned home I 
have been led to think that my father desires 
me to succeed him in taking charge of this 
large farm, and to assist him now as soon as I 
am stronger. It will be a trial to me, Hattie, 
because I think I love books better than farm- 
ing, and it seems to me as if I could do more 
17 * 


198 


FERNWOOD. 


good in tlie college, but I may be mistaken. 
I have grieved my father very deeply in time 
past, so now I will try to atone for it, and if I 
find farming is to be my duty, Hattie, I will 
accept it, looking for a blessing on my subdued 
will. All this matter must remain quiet, 
though. I think I can trust your discretion 
not to speak about it. Here we are at the 
mill; how natural it looks !” 

Euth was sweet and simple in her manners, 
as usual ; she told Hattie, when they were to- 
gether, that she thought her uncle looked as 
if he was a very religious man, and she liked 
him. 

After a short visit there, Hattie and her 
uncle rode round by Hr. White’s, where they 
saw all the family, and Uncle yiii took par- 
ticular notice of Caroline. She still retained 
a sad, wistful expression in her eyes ; she was 
in much better health, but not yet equal to 
the studies in a large school, nor to the gay- 
eties of the coming winter. While she was 
out of the room her aunt spoke of her with 
much interest and concern, telling Mr. Ches- 
ton the circumstance of her fright and its 
dangerous consequences. The boy had been 
found and dealt with ; his parents very proper- 


FERNWOOD. 


199 


ly considering that he deserved severe pun- 
ishment for such cruel mischief ; but Caroline' 
shrunk from meeting him again. 

That evening, when the united and happy 
family at Fernwood were all sitting together 
after tea, Uncle Will made a proposal to his 
father in which Hattie felt deeply interested 
at once. 

If, he said, his parents had no objection to 
giving up a certain room on the ground floor 
that was but seldom used, he would like to 
teach the three little girls, Hattie, Euth, and 
Caroline, several hours every day. There 
was no good school in the neighbourhood, and 
if the weather was unfavourable, Caroline 
could be driven over, or Euth either, 'although 
she lived quite near. 

Hattie could scarcely sit still, so eager was 
she to express her entire delight in the pros- 
pect ; her eyes sparkled with excitement. 

Her mother, observing her animated expres- 
sion, immediately said, 

“ The plan meets my approbation for Hat- 
tie ; she will be happier to continue her care 
over grandma than to spend the winter in 
town, I know.” 

And grandma would not know how to do 


200 


FERNWOOD. 


without her now,” said Mrs. Cheston, giving 
the little girl a loving kisS. 

''Yes,” said grandpa; "Hattie seems part 
of the household. After all she has been to her 
grandmother in my absence, we cannot spare 
her.” 

"Well, then,” said Mrs. Winslow, "we can 
easily ask the other children, or their parents, 
and I hope they will consent.” 

Mr. and Mrs. Cheston freely gave up the 
room that was wanted, — the more willingly 
that they were touched with the humility of 
their dear son : teaching little girls, instead 
of continuing his studies for the expected 
professorship, did indeed seem like an evi- 
dence of a submissive will ; and this submission 
of the will had its origin in a renewed heart. 

"I cannot give up books altogether, Hat- 
tie,” her uncle said to her, with a smile, an 
hour or two afterward ; " perhaps I can guide 
your taste in the choice of your reading and 
inspire you with a love of study, if I have 
you and your little friends under my care 
this winter.” 

Caroline received immediate permission to 
remain for the winter at Dr. White’s and take 
lessons with Hattie, while Euth gladly united 


FEENWOOD. 


201 


in the plan, being naturally fond of study and 
having had but few advantages. 

And a happy, peaceful winter it proved to 
be; Hattie’s mission of love to her grand- 
mother not being interrupted by her duties 
toward her uncle. She continued to make 
Fernwood her home, becoming more devoted 
to her grandparents as the infirmities of age 
advanced upon them, willingly given to them 
by her mother, who saw her frequently, and 
uniting with her uncle in cheering their de- 
clining days. 

don’t see, for my part,” said Myrtle, 
how we ever managed to live at all before 
Miss Hattie came for her birth-day and young 
Master Will came back from the West. If it 
hadn’t been that mistress was the patientest 
Christian that ever lived, the house would 
have been too dismal to hold us.” 

Caroline never spent another winter such 
as the one in which her health had been in- 
jured ; she learned the value of higher pur- 
suits, and enjoyed more substantial pleasures 
than those she had once considered so at- 
tractive. 

Dear little Euth continued to walk in her 
bright path of duty, singing as she went, 


202 


FERNWOOD. 


making her father and mother happy that 
they owned such a daughter. 

Uncle Will never regretted having resigned 
his cherished hopes for the sake of gratifying 
his father. As time advanced, he found many 
ways of making his influence felt in the cause 
of his heavenly Master throughout the neigh- 
bourhood ; and by the time at which his studies 
would have been completed he had become 
established in the respect and affection of his 
neighbours, doing good by the force of ex- 
ample, and in many ways besides. 

Eiding home one evening with his little 
niece, who, though so much younger than 
himself in years, was a most intelligent com- 
panion, Uncle Will said, 

“ Hattie, you and I have found out our mis- 
sions without having to look very far away for 
them ; don’t you think so ?” 

^^Oh yes, uncle, and they are such very 
happy ones ! Ought we to be happy, though ?” 
she added, with a sudden look of questioning 
on her brow, for Hattie liked to be sure about 
everything. 

It seems to me,” replied her uncle, that 
simply doing what we believe to be our duty 
ought to make us happy, my dear ; but, inde- 


FERNWOOD. 


203 


pendently of that, our duty in this case, yours 
and mine, leads us to do all in our power to 
make those we love happier and more com- 
fortable than they could be without us. How 
can we help finding that this work adds to our 
own happiness? I think we may safely in- 
dulge ourselves with it, Hattie." 

But, uncle,” said Hattie, sometimes peo- 
ple do have missions that make them — ” and 
she hesitated for a word. 

Make them practice self-denial, do you 
mean ?” 

“Yes, Uncle Will ; — things that they would 
really rather not do.” 

“ Certainly, my child, there are many such 
missions ; we are all called upon to take up our 
cross and follow Christ. But if we love our 
Saviour, Hattie, as we want to love him, self- 
denial will not seem hard or painful for his 
sake. You are young yet ; in the years to 
come I trust you will be a faithful servant of 
Christ, living and working for him, and his 
love will sweeten the hardest work he will 
ever call upon you to do for him.” 

“I want to work for Jesus, uncle; no one 
could live with grandma and grandpa and not 
learn to love the Saviour they love so much.” 


204 


FERNWOOD. 


“ I lived with them, Hattie,” said her uncle, 
with deep emotion, for many years, blind to 
the beauty of their holy lives, dead to the in- 
fluence of their lovely and Christian examples. 
It grieves me to think of those days, — deeply 
grieves me ; I cannot do enough to make their 
remaining years on earth peaceful and happy, 
and I trust it may be granted me to see in 
their case that at ^evening time it shall be 
light.’ I do not deserve the blessing, yet I 
have faith to look for it ; not for my own sake, 
but for the sake of that Saviour whose meek 
disciples they have been through all their 
trials and in their darkest days.” 

“And, Uncle Will,” said Hattie, with a 
sweet, tender expression on her face, “ I think 
you see it now. Do you see that bright streak 
of gold where the sun just now went down ?” 

“ I do — it is very beautiful — just below the 
heavy cloud.” 

“ That,” said the child, gazing at the west 
and speaking with perfect simplicity and faith — 
“ that. Uncle Will, is your coming back, and 
your love ; the dark cloud is edged with gold, 
and it is ^ light at evening time ’ to grandma 
and grandpa now.” 



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